The Strength of the Soul
by Anysia
Summary: Five years after he becomes a Pokemon Master, Ash finds himself drowning in a sea of corruption, his dreams achieved but painfully realized. Can he survive against such a powerful and shadowy adversary?
1. Prologue

_**The Strength of the Soul**_

**Summary: **Five years after he becomes a Pokemon Master, Ash finds himself drowning in a sea of corruption, his dreams achieved but painfully realized. Can he survive on his own against such a powerful and shadowy adversary? Is he really as alone as he thinks?

**A/N:** What the hell am I doing? I, Anysia, who has set herself so firmly within the realm of semi-predictable humor/romance fics, have begun work on a drama/angst/romance piece. Okay, the fact of the matter is that, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I have an innate love of drama. I don't think I'm all that great at it, but it is my first love. As such, I'm breaking free of the restrictions I have set upon myself and finally transcribing the idea that has been nagging me since I began writing "To Arms!". I hope that you enjoy it. Also, please note that the strong rating is for later chapters, which will contain violence, strong language, and adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** Pokemon belongs to Nintendo, Game Freak, 4Kids, and probably some other people I'm forgetting. In any case, it's not mine.

**Innumerable thanks to: **Rae8, for inspiring me with her incredible dramatic fics. Erina-chan, for being a terrific author and a wonderful reviewer. Cyberwraith9, for invaluable constructive criticism and support. Metal Mewtwo, for camaraderie and continuous, never wavering support. And, as always, to Karen, for everything.

* * *

"_Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the world's newest—and youngest—Pokemon Master…Ash Ketchum!"_

_Ash's grin grew impossibly wider as he struggled to hold back the joyous tears that threatened to spill over. He had finally done it; seven years of hard, grueling work had finally borne fruition as he achieved the coveted title of 'Pokemon Master'. His eyes scanned the cheering crowd from his place on the elevated platform, searching for his friends and family._

_There was Brock, his fatherly smile beaming down proudly upon his young friend. His mother sobbed loudly, clutching at a handkerchief and holding onto Professor Oak for support. Tracey sketched frantically, trying his best to capture the momentous occasion. May waved frantically to her former traveling companion, and even Gary Oak allowed his typical condescending smirk to melt into a small smile for a moment. But where was—_

—_Ash's smile slowly faded as he remembered. __**Of course she's not here, **__he thought sadly, trying to turn his attention back to Lance's needlessly long speech. But try as he might, he could not tamp down the depression slowly seeping into his mind as he noticed the one person absent from his personal cheering section…the one person that he had always dreamed of having by his side on the most joyous day of his life—as well as the highlight of his career as a Pokemon trainer. She had been by his side since he first set out upon his journey, foolhardy and optimistic, without the slightest clue as to the difficulties he would face. Together they had felt the rush of victory, the agony of defeat…and both the pain and ecstasy of love. They had been torn apart once, when Misty had been forced to return to the Cerulean City Gym in her sisters' absence, but Ash had assumed that once she had returned, they would stand together until the end of time._

_He was a fool._

_Ash's tears of joy quickly changed to tears of sorrow as he suddenly found himself feeling completely alone, despite the tens of thousands of spectators crowding the arena. __**Of course Misty's not here, Ash.**_

_**She's dead.**_

* * *

_**Five years later…**_

* * *

"Current risk factor remains at a steady eighty-five percent, although some fluctuation can be expected within the spectrum of radical terrorist attacks…"

Twenty-two-year-old Ash Ketchum leaned back in his office chair as he scanned yet another memo warning him about the potential dangers of attending this year's Pokemon League Gala—the usual fears of terrorists, lone dissenters and former Trainers who had failed to fall in line when the New Order had begun, etc. He knew that the likelihood of any upstart actually occurring was slim to none, but _they _had a habit of preying upon the inherent fears of mankind in order to bend their underlings to their will. It was essentially a failsafe method, one that had been proven time and time again in all the world's most successful totalitarian regimes.

Ash quickly suppressed a smirk at that train of thought, casting a wary glance at the ominous security camera across the room. _No need to give them one more target on their ill-conceived witch-hunt_, he thought with a heavy sigh, returning the memo to its manila envelope and swiveling around in his chair to stare out the large bay window of his spacious corner office.

Below him, the innocent citizens of Viridian City went on with their meaningless little lives—laughing, playing, working, shopping…_living_. They were happily oblivious to the evil and corruption that snaked through the city like a smoky phantom, drifting silently past and allowing them to believe in the relative safety of their city, yet all the while waiting for just the right moment to strike. Ash found himself despising them more every day, both cursing them for their naïveté and desperately wishing that he could regain that gentle innocence that he himself had long since lost.

Ash's eyes drifted over to the mounted plaque hung proudly on the wall—the plaque that had been presented to him on the day he had been crowned an official Pokemon Master. He found himself scowling at it, wanting to take that symbol of his endless misery and rip it apart with his bare hands. If he had only failed to achieve his dream…

"Well, can't exactly change that," he said to himself, quickly locking his desk and getting up from his seated position. Stopping briefly to cast a mournful look at the cheerful faces on the streets below, Ash slung his official Pokemon Master jacket over his shoulder and headed out of the building.

* * *

Everything was the same these days, Ash noted with a frown as he strode silently down the cracked sidewalk to the small café on the corner. Day in and day out, the same paperwork, the same staged battles to convince the public that yes, the Pokemon League did still exist, and the same feeling gnawing at the back of his mind that this whole goddamned lifestyle just wasn't worth living anymore. This wasn't quite what he had imagined when he had first dreamed of becoming the world's greatest Pokemon Master as a still-innocent, fresh-faced ten-year-old who had never even left Pallet Town.

Ash had imagined a position of esteem and respect, his training abilities unquestioned and his name inciting as much reverence as the Elite Four's. He'd be a force to be reckoned with, Pikachu always standing loyally by his side as they went bravely into battle, only to always come out victorious. His mother would be deathly proud of him, and Misty…would always be by his side.

His hand tightened dangerously on the door handle as the aspirations he had so longed for in his youth returned to him. Swinging the café door open with a sudden burst of strength, he strode angrily over to an empty booth and sat down heavily. He had managed thus far to delude himself into thinking that he had achieved all of his dreams the day he had been declared a Pokemon Master, but in reality, that was only part of what he had so long hoped for.

Ash's name did garner much respect, that much was true. But it was not he himself who was so admired as the _League_. He was merely an inconsequential pawn in a vicious game with no respite.

And Pikachu…Ash found himself choking back tears at the memory of his dearest non-human friend and first Pokemon. It wasn't good for his image, they had said, to have such a "_common" _and "_clearly weak" _Pokemon in his arsenal, much less as his starter. Ash didn't know what had happened to him, and after three years of desperately searching the League's online databases for any sort of clue, no matter how minor, he finally gave up, though part of his mind failed to lose hope that the small yellow electric mouse was still out there somewhere.

His mother was proud of him; she would still love him if he had committed genocide. It was the fact that she had no idea of the corruption he faced, the untouchable power choking the life from him more and more each day, that made the guilt within Ash grow and intensify until he felt as though he could no longer breathe. That she could be so proud of him without knowing a goddamn thing about him…

And then there was…Misty. The one person he had always counted on, the one person who had always been there for him, the one person he had loved more than anything on this earth…and the one person who had been viciously ripped away from him. He could still remember that day so clearly…

* * *

"_I have to go home for a couple of days," she said quietly, her head bowed so as not to meet his eyes._

_He regarded her curiously, failing to understand why she was avoiding his gaze. "Misty, what's wrong? I—is everything okay?"_

_Her lower lip began to tremble with the effort not to cry, and she quickly turned her back to him. "The tournament's in two weeks," she said in a shaky voice tinged with tears. "I—I can't…"_

"_Misty…you—you'll be there with me, won't you?" he asked fearfully. The thought of not having her there with him as he achieved his greatest dream was simply too much to bear._

_She turned to face him, a strange mix of pain and promise displayed upon her delicate features. "I'll never leave you, Ash," she promised him, raising one shaky hand and pressing it against her heart. "No matter what. You have to remember that. Please?"_

_He nodded dumbly, not quite understanding why her words were so choked with emotion. "I promise, Mist."_

_She smiled at him—a smile that for some reason seemed to break his heart in two. "I'll be back in about three days," she said. _

"_I'll be waiting," he had responded. Then, suddenly overtaken by some previously unknown urge, he leaned over and gently kissed her, taking that small hand against her heart into his own. "Come back to me soon."_

_They had parted ways with after a long embrace, her silent tears continuing to fall. He had felt a growing sense of dread after she departed, but he brushed it aside…_

…_until three days later, when he learned that she had been shot to death as she entered Cerulean City._

* * *

Ash stared at the turkey club before him, suddenly violently sick to his stomach. The memories were so fresh and vivid in his mind, and time had done nothing to heal the scarring wounds. The pain of his losses continued to torment him until he thought he'd go insane, and his only saving grace—his title of 'Pokemon Master'—had lost all meaning to him when he learned how corrupt the Pokemon League had become.

The public was so blissfully unaware of it all; Ash could almost understand that, as he himself had once been a part of the gullible masses. The noble façade they presented had been honed to perfection over the years, as clean and smooth as glass. It was only when he himself was able to part the shadows and see into the light that Ash discovered the truth. Within their hallowed halls lay such terrible power and evil that it was simply unimaginable; even Team Rocket, long believed to be the harbinger of evil within the Pokemon community, was simply a front constructed by the League to distract the public from their own transgressions. Greed and a lust for power drove their actions, not a love for Pokemon. And Ash had unwittingly fallen right into their hands.

But what could he possibly do? He was only one person, and even though he held what was commonly believed to be one of the most powerful and prestigious positions within the League, he was in reality a mere figurehead whose sole position was to serve as a reassurance to the people, a sugar-coated lie that they bought into all too readily. There was nothing he could do to fight against the tide.

_But then…_Ash found his hand unconsciously drifting to his jacket pocket, trying to remain inconspicuous as he pulled out the small piece of torn and wrinkled paper held within it. His mind drifted back to Brock, who had disappeared about two and a half years ago, as his eyes scanned the paper for what seemed like the millionth time. It would be dangerous—suicide, actually, but could it be that there was a way to…

Ash shook his head and thrust the crumpled paper back into his pocket, once again mentally cursing the fear and trepidation that kept him from trying to free himself from this figurative prison. He sighed and leaned back into the booth, casting one final glance at the paper. _Maybe someday I'll be brave enough._

* * *

At the lunch counter, a lone figure watched the young Pokemon Master from the corner of his eye, taking a long sip of coffee as he made a few notes in the small notebook sitting innocently upon the stainless-steel surface before him.

* * *

"You're sure?" one of the ten shadowy, hooded figures asked the spotlighted person standing before them.

"Ketchum's a subversive, and a dangerous one at that," the man said with a shrug, squinting hard against the bright light concentrated on him. "You've known that for a while."

"Indeed," another of the figures agreed, "but to suggest that he may be considering some kind of rebellion against us is ludicrous. He knows quite well that such an attempt would be suicidal, and even Ketchum is smart enough to value his own life."

"Not if he doesn't think he has anything to live for," the man said simply, tossing his notebook onto the dark, polished wood of the long table. He smirked at them and left the hall, his footsteps echoing loudly throughout the hall.

The ten shadowed figures spoke in hushed tones amongst themselves for a few moments, then turned as one to the small woman sitting in the corner of the room, her shoulders hunched. "It looks like we'll be in need of your services after all, my dear," the first hooded figure said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "We expect the job to be carried out thoroughly and completely—and in the next three days. You know what the price of failure is." He nodded once to his fellow shadowed men, then exited the hall, each falling into line behind him.

The young woman simply bowed her head, the tears falling freely from her cerulean-blue eyes.

* * *

**To Be Continued…**

* * *

_Well, there you have it—the prologue to my first-ever non-humorous multichapter fic. I'm fully terrified as to what the response may be from a public so adapted to my humor fics, but I'm finding this the most artistically-satisfying project I've ever attempted. Hopefully, it's a good read._

_I simply cannot emphasize how instrumental Karen—aka cultnirvana—was in the creation of this chapter. This has been sitting on my computer forever, but she convinced me that I'd be okay at drama and inspired me to post it. If it's at all good, she deserves much of the credit for helping me conquer my fear of posting. Thanks a mil, Karen._

_Comments and criticism welcome._


	2. Chapter One: Desperation

_**The Strength of the Soul**_

**Summary: **Five years after he becomes a Pokemon Master, Ash finds himself drowning in a sea of corruption, his dreams achieved but painfully realized. Can he survive on his own against such a powerful and shadowy adversary? Is he really as alone as he thinks?

**A/N: **Wow. I cannot even begin to put into words how shocked I was at the response the prologue got. I sat at my computer for about half and hour before posting it, carefully debating whether or not to submit it for fear of alienating my 'fan base'. I'm still very nervous that I'll end up drifting over into the realm of melodrama, but until that happens I'm going to try my damnedest to hold myself up to the expectations my lovely readers have set for me. I hope I won't disappoint you.

I'm also quite pleased at the confusion I've generated by the ambiguity of the last sentence of the prologue; everything should make much more sense by the end of the chapter. Or the middle, depending on how well you can make inferences.

**WARNING: **People, the 'R' rating really comes into play this chapter. There is one scene in particular that is very, very dark and disturbing and was emotionally shattering for me to write; you'll know it when you come to it. Suffice it to say that this chapter, as well as the rest of the fic from this point on, is _not for the kids in the audience_. Consider this fair warning.

**Disclaimer: **see prologue

**Thanks Again to: **Rae8, Erina-chan, Metal Mewtwo, Cyberwraith9, odd sponge out, KazOhki, x Angel of the Night x, Kayla, and Gryphon Turboclaw.

**Fic in its entirety dedicated to: **Karen (cultnirvana), for deceiving me into thinking I'd be half-decent at drama.

* * *

The harsh glare from the streetlight set the small room awash in neon light. Ash tossed and turned violently in the short bed, desperately seeking some small bit of comfort upon the hard, lumpy mattress. His eyes were shut tightly against the bright light flooding his bedroom, its severity nearly painful.

The day had ended routinely enough; after returning from lunch, he settled in from a quick interview with one of the local news nets, carefully maintaining his cheerful façade throughout. It sickened him to be forced to betray his true nature in such a manner, to pretend to be happy and satisfied with life when in reality he spent every waking moment wondering what horrible act he had committed in his past to deserve such a cruel and unusual punishment.

Ash clamped the pillow over his head, vainly trying to stop the morbid thoughts crossing his mind for at least a few hours, but it was to no avail. His mind continued to flash back to all the moments in his life that had resulted in the hell he lived in now—his inauguration as a Pokemon Master, Misty's murder, Brock's disappearance, the League's seizure of all his belongings and 'monetary assets', and his complete inability to fight back anymore. The latter was an acquired ability, one that he had gained after spending five years being unable to speak up on pain of death.

Ash sighed and flipped onto his back, staring at the cracks running along the ceiling and once again shielding his eyes against the bright light assaulting his eyes. That oppression was what he could not forgive; it was what caused his thorough self-loathing. He had sacrificed his innocence and virtue in exchange for safety from the League's wrath. Countless people were murdered or just 'disappeared' the second they crossed the organization, and Ash sat idly by and watched it happen. Once upon a time he would have cried out in indignation and fought valiantly against the corruption. But how could he decry them now that he had become as vile as they for failing to stop them?

The light was too harsh, Ash noted, turning his head away and seeking comfort in the darkness once again.

* * *

"_We expect the job to be carried out thoroughly and completely__and in the next three days. You know what the price of failure is."_

The young woman grasped the cracked coffee mug with shaky hands, their cuticles ragged and nails bitten down to the quick. She had been held under the League's thumb for the past five years and been forced to carry out deeds unimaginable, but to be assigned to kill Ash…

The hot beverage had begun to scald her chapped lips, but she was so lost in thought that she remained oblivious. Fighting back a desperate sob, she turned her dim eyes to the .44 Magnum lying upon the kitchen table, a dangerous glint upon its sleek metal frame.

How she hated that weapon. They couldn't have given her something that made a clean hit; that would be too 'boring'. No, they had to issue her a Magnum, whose impact was tantamount to being shot by a cannon at close range. It was all about the drama, they had said. A clean bullet wound led to confusion by those present at the time of the hit; with a Magnum, the near-explosion tearing through the victim would be difficult to mistake. It never failed to make her violently ill.

In just a few short days, she'd once again be arming herself with that same gun that she had carried with her to countless assassinations, her breath caught and beads of sweat collecting upon her forehead as she prayed to whatever deity might be listening to forgive her. It would be infinitely worse this time; to finally see Ash, with his boyish charm and ruggedly handsome looks, his eyes bright and honest, and to watch him fall at her hand…

Tears began to pool in her aquamarine eyes for what seemed like the millionth time in the past five years. She had lost everything; her family, her friends, every semblance of life she had once had. The only thing that held her sanity was the fact that Ash was safe, even if it meant endless suffering for her. The League, unfortunately, knew of that weakness all too well and exploited it ruthlessly.

She had no escape from this life; if she fled, they would kill Ash. If she committed suicide, they would kill him. If she did anything other than what they explicitly commanded or refused to follow orders in any way, shape, or form…she couldn't bear to have the one thing left in her life be struck down because of her.

But now she had no choice. The day that she had dreaded since they first placed that deadly weapon in her hand had finally arrived; she had known that it was inevitable, that they would eventually grow tired of Ash's virtuous nature and have him killed. She was naïve enough to believe that they would enlist someone else. But why should they, when the most pain they could possibly inflict upon him would be his murder at her hands?

* * *

"_cough_ Yeah, like I said, _cough,_ there's no way I can make it into work today. _coughcough_"

Ash continued his melodramatic coughing for a few minutes, trying his best to convince the employee on the other line of the severity of his 'head cold'. Another sleepless night combined with the rapidly intensifying feeling of being overwhelmed by corruption had left him completely burnt-out, so he decided to feign illness and spend the day in Pallet Town with his mother.

"Well, you've racked up quite a few sick days, Mr. Ketchum," the employee said somewhat suspiciously. Ash could have sworn he knew that voice but brushed aside the strange feeling. "But, what the hell. You're a Master; I guess you've earned some free time. I'm taking off in about ten minutes myself. Hope you feel better," he said amiably, then hung up.

Ash let out the breath he had unconsciously been holding, carefully placing the phone back in its cradle. "Maybe a day in the country'll do me some good," he said to himself, stopping only to grab his keys off the hook as he headed out of the small apartment.

* * *

The man leaned back in his chair, casting a smirk at the phone beside him. He silently reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a small notebook.

* * *

"Oh, my little boy has come back to me!"

Ash rolled his eyes a little as his mother began to squeeze the life out of him with one of her death-grip hugs, joyous tears freely flowing. It had been nearly seven months since he'd had the time to see his mother, even though she remained the only source of solace in his corrupted life. "I've missed you so much, Mom," he said earnestly, returning the hug with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

"How have you been? Are you eating right? Remembering to change your you-know-what's every day? Brushing your teeth twice a day? My goodness, look how thin you are! I'll make you some lunch right away!"

Ash laughed as his mother immediately rushed into the kitchen to whip up some food for him. It had been so long since he'd seen her, and he'd almost forgotten how her overeager mothering never failed to cheer him up. "Still the same mom," he said to himself, relaxing into the sofa a little.

The house hadn't changed since he was a kid, he noted. It was still completely immaculate, with lacy drapes, carefully positioned knick-knacks, and countless photographs of times past. There were pictures of Ash as a toddler, his mother and Professor Oak on one of their countless vacations…

…and a picture of him and Misty.

Ash felt another wave of grief wash over him at the decade-old picture, showing the two of them smiling broadly and flashing the 'V' sign at the camera. They had been so young and carefree then; they had no idea of the horrors that faced them just a few years down the road.

_Damn it! _he swore mentally, tearing his eyes away from the photo. _Can a single day go by where I'm not forced to remember everything that I've lost? _

"Honey, I didn't remember if you liked crunchy or creamy peanut butter, so I'm making two sandwiches just in case!"

"That's fine, Mom," Ash called back to her, his voice distant as he tried desperately not to remember…

* * *

_The rain fell lightly upon the somber group clad in black, their heads bowed silently at the graveside. It wasn't really even raining, but technically misting—a fact which made the event somehow even more bitterly ironic._

_Ash felt completely devoid of any emotion as he listened to the minister carry on with his eulogy before the soft sniffling and sobs drifting from the solemn crowd. He couldn't believe that his Misty was really gone, that she could possibly have died just as they had begun to realize their feelings for each other. Fate was far too cruel a mistress._

_They hadn't even found her body after she had been murdered; both she and her three sisters had simply vanished. That was the only solace that Ash had as he watched the empty coffin slowly lower into the ground. The police had said quite definitively that there was no way that Misty could have survived both the shooting and the explosion that soon after leveled the Cerulean City Gym, and they soon declared her legally dead. _

_But the hope that she could still be alive, remote as the possibility was, kept the fire that burned in Ash's heart alive. With that he could be strong enough to face the Championships at Indigo Plateau and attempt to become an official Pokemon Master at long last. The title would mean nothing to him without Misty by his side, but he could at least try to procure it in her honor. _

_In the meantime, Ash vowed never to lose faith, to always hold the belief that she was alive somewhere and waiting for him to return to her. __**I promise you, Misty, if you're out there somewhere, I'll find you, and I'll make sure no one ever hurts you again for as long as I live.**_

* * *

_I can't…I can't…I…can't kill him…_

She stood at the sink, her head bowed and her uncontrollably shaking hands hanging uselessly at her sides. "I can't kill the man I love," she said in a choked whisper, barely even recognizing the pained voice as her own.

"Sure you can."

The startled young woman immediately reached for her weapon at the voice, holding it in a defensive position as she whirled to face him. Upon seeing his face, she slowly lowered it, a suspicious glare in her eyes. "What do you want, you bastard?"

The man smirked, pulling off his jacket and tossing it carelessly aside. "Just wanted to check up on you," he said with a shrug. "You've only got two and a half days now, you know."

"Stop it!" she cried angrily, slamming the gun down upon the rickety kitchen table. "You think I don't know that? You think that I'm not counting down the seconds until I have to gun down the last thing in this goddamn miserable existence that I have left?!"

His countenance remained unchanged. "Must be hard," he said in a mock-sympathetic tone. "Though I'll never understand what you see in that little punk."

"I assumed you'd be able to see," she said, matching his wicked tone, "just how special he is, seeing as how you're always _spying _on him."

"Orders," he replied with a shrug. "The League wants constant updates on our little subversive Master. What would happen if he managed to escape just as our fiery little assassin—" He gripped her chin and tilted her head so that her eyes met his. "—were about to take him down?" The man smiled wickedly at the slightly panicky look in her eyes. "Of course, not that you're not _exceptionally _good at another interpretation of the phrase…"

"Stop," she pleaded, mentally cursing the weakness and desperation laced through that single word. He thrived on that weakness, that vulnerability; she knew that all too well by this point.

He seemed to ponder her words for a brief moment, then pulled her forward for a harsh, bruising kiss. He felt no pleasure from it, no passion…just a sick, twisted desire filled by seeing her so helpless against him. There was nothing she could do now, just as she'd been unable to stop him the last five times he'd done this. She was completely—

The man let out a sharp scream as he felt a sharp pain radiating from his right arm. He quickly pulled away from the hellish embrace to see one of her small, delicate hands wrapped around the steak knife now protruding from his forearm. Her blue eyes were wild with fury, her hair disheveled and her lips bruised and bleeding from the intensity of his forced kiss. "You have taken _everything _from me," she said in a low, dangerous voice, ignoring the hot blood running down her fingers. "I won't let you take that anymore."

In spite of the throbbing pain shooting up his arm, an amused lilt came to his lips. With one swift jerk the knife was extracted from the flesh of his arm and had slashed her across the face. "Well, well, well," he said with a laugh. "Looks like this kitten is really still a tiger after all. I thought we'd beaten that fight out of you long ago, bitch."

* * *

Ash chewed thoughtfully upon the first of seventeen sandwiches his mother had made him, each with a slightly different brand of jelly or sliced at a different angle. "Thanks, Mom," he said with his mouth full, downing a glass of lemonade to wash the peanut butter from his mouth. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably starve," she said pointedly, pinching at his arm. "Look at this; you're all skin and bones! You have to start coming to visit more so I can make you some nice home-cooked meals!"

Ash simply shook his head and smiled as he took another bite.

* * *

The young woman fought viciously, desperate tears streaming down her face as she fought against those merciless hands tearing at her clothes. "Please, God…" she whispered.

"God can't hear you," he said viciously, once again capturing her mouth with his.

* * *

"Do you want to watch a movie later?" Ash asked, skimming through the copy of _TV Guide _on the coffee table. "_My Fair Lady_'s on channel four."

"That sounds nice, dear. Have you had enough to eat?"

"I'm absolutely stuffed, Mom. You've really outdone yourself."

Ash's mother smiled warmly at him and pulled her young son into a hug. "I'm so proud of you, honey."

And for a moment, Ash could almost pretend that everything he'd done was right.

* * *

The blood still seeped from the deep stab wound in his arm, snaking its way down the perspiration-dampened flesh. He remained oblivious to the pain as he focused on the agony and humiliation tainting the features of the woman beneath him. "And you think," he said with a cold smile, dragging his tongue along her neck, "that bastard would still want you if he knew what you've become? That he'd still love you?"

Tears continued to fall from unblinking turquoise eyes.

* * *

"Sweet dreams, my little boy," Ash's mom said softly as she tucked Ash into bed, planting a gentle kiss upon his forehead.

"Mom, I'm not a little kid," Ash protested as she pulled the covers up to his chin. "I don't need to be tucked in."

"I don't want to hear any arguments, young man," she said sternly, flicking the light off and smiling at him. "Goodnight."

Ash kept that stubborn scowl in place for a moment, only to feel the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. In reality, it felt wonderful to be treated as a child, to once again feel that comforting security that only a mother could offer. A contented smile played across his lips as he rolled over and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

He tugged his jacket back on without bearing a passing glance at the small, silent figure curled into the fetal position on the cold hardwood floor. He withdrew a small notebook from his pocket, making note of a few things before pulling out a few coins and tossing them at the young woman. "Might as well give you a little something for your troubles," he said emotionlessly. And then he was gone.

And the tears kept falling.

* * *

Ash awoke in a cold sweat, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. He couldn't quite figure out why he'd awoken with such a start; he hadn't been dreaming or experiencing a nightmare. _Maybe I'm just not used to spending a night away from that damned apartment, as much as I hate it. _Running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, he pushed the covers aside and quickly dressed. Stopping only to whisper a short goodbye to his mother, he started back towards his convertible and soon was speeding back to his apartment in Viridian City.

* * *

She scrubbed vigorously at her pale skin, trying desperately to remove the feel of his body against hers. She had been foolish enough to believe that it would be less painful, both physically and emotionally, over time; but no, he only took delight in her pain, her humiliation. He could achieve pleasure from nothing else.

She finally exited the shower and wrapped a towel around her slim frame, resting her back against the wall and slowly sliding down to the floor. It didn't matter how much they did to her or how much they took from her; in the end, they could always hurt her more. And in less than seventy-two hours, they would finally succeed in taking her last source of emotional refuge from her.

Suddenly, something deep within her seemed to snap. Paying no heed to the cries from her broken body, the fair skin marred by dark bruises and slash marks, she made her way to the bedroom and threw on the first clothes she saw. She stopped only to grab her gun before starting towards the garage, a look of pure determination and unadulterated hatred blazing in her eyes.

She was going to stop them if it was the last thing she did.

And she knew that it very well may be.

* * *

Ash sighed and jingled his keys as he started up the six flights of stairs leading to his League-issue apartment. Since they'd seized all his material possessions, he'd been forced to live in whatever quarters they assigned him, even if the only option was the dingy apartment in which he now lived. It wasn't really so bad, though; it provided him with a dark, quiet space in which to think.

The day he had spent with his mother had been well-spent; for the first time in a long while, Ash felt rejuvenated, full of life and energy. He was in such high spirits that he didn't even notice the black-clad figure until he had slammed into him.

"S-sorry," he stammered quickly to the man, whose stern countenance and solid frame gave him the appearance of a brick wall. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

The man's features remained unchanged. "Ashton Ketchum?" he asked in a monotone, his eyes hidden behind a pair of mirrored sunglasses.

"Yes?"

He produced an Uzi from a holster hidden at his hip by the long, black trench coat. "I've come to kill you."

* * *

"Are you sure that this was a wise decision?"

The man smirked at the shadowy hooded figures once again before him, their expressions somber. "We can't trust that bitch," he said simply, crossing his arms against his chest. "She's too unreliable."

"And what exactly has granted you the authority to make such a decision?" one of the figures asked curtly, its anger evident.

"Trust me," the man replied. "I've taken care of everything."

* * *

Ash ducked behind the stairwell just as the man set off his first round of ammunition, the bullets ricocheting off the stairs' steel frame. He didn't even dare to hazard a glance as the Uzi continued to spit out its high-speed projectiles at a deadly rate, the bullets whizzing by his head. _Who would want me dead? _his mind asked in a panic.

_No time to think about that now! _Ash quickly launched himself down the stairwell, dodging shots with each step. He faintly heard the man curse as he stopped to reload, then once again came after his target, shooting between breaths.

"You can't escape, Ketchum!" Ash heard his pursuer yell angrily. He held his breath as he ducked into the apartment building's lobby, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. _Dammit, there's nowhere left to run! And to top it all off, there's no cover! What should I do?_

Ash didn't have a chance to answer his own unspoken question as he heard a click behind him. He slowly turned his head to see the gun pointed squarely at his chest. Stealing a glance to the left and the right, he realized that he was trapped—and staring at the business end of an Uzi. "Why are you doing this?" he asked in disbelief, beads of sweat rolling down his face as he stared into the face of death.

"You're a subversive," the man replied simply, never taking his eyes off Ash. "The League finds you troublesome. As such, they have ordered you to be destroyed." His finger tightened on the trigger.

Ash felt his throat tighten as he realized that death was mere seconds away, but despite his paralyzing fear his mind had begun to race. He was a subversive? The League thought he was dangerous? What had he done?

But suddenly, it didn't matter. _Death _didn't matter. For five years, he had lamented his miserable existence, wondering why he had been cursed with such pain. If this was the only way to end his suffering, then so be it. He closed his eyes.

A shot rang out.

Ash fell to his knees, expecting the pain of the bullet wound to begin to flood his senses at any moment. And yet it did not come. He slowly opened his eyes, only to see the assassin lying face-down in a pool of blood, the Uzi lying uselessly in his outstretched hand. _Wh-what? _he thought incredulously. His thoughts froze as he observed the figure standing at the other end of the lobby, its arms extended and a gun gripped tightly in its hands. The figure slowly stepped forward, and he felt his heart stop as the stark neon light illuminated his savior's features.

"Misty…"

* * *

_I warned you, didn't I? sigh As a woman, that rape scene was very, very difficult to write, but it was kinda essential to the plot. Story before comfort, I suppose. I just hope that my loyal readers won't be utterly repulsed by it and come to despise me. I think that, as of this chapter, I've made a complete 360 from my original Humor/Romance designation._

_I honestly don't think that I surprised a single member of the audience with the ending. Really, I don't. It would be nice if I had had someone fooled, but I'm being realistic here. The hints were so rampant; very, very observant individuals who have read the rest of my works will note that in Chapter Three of 'Temp. Ceasefire', I mentioned that I'd be writing a fic "where Ash and Misty reunite". Plus, the "cerulean-blue eyes" was a big-ass clue; cerulean, as in Cerulean City? Get it? _

_Thank you very much for reading; this story has really become my baby, and I'm very anxious to see what everyone thinks of this chapter, as it was very emotionally taxing to write._

_Comments and criticism welcome._


	3. Chapter Two: Promise

**Summary:** Five years after he becomes a Pokemon Master, Ash finds himself drowning in a sea of corruption, his dreams achieved but painfully realized. Can he survive on his own against such a powerful and shadowy adversary? Is he really as alone as he thinks?

**A/N:** Once again, tremendous thanks to all of you who reviewed; it makes me very happy. I did get a negative review for this fic, but it was for a very, very asinine reason, so I've dismissed it (though not before agonizing over it for an unnecessarily long period of time, as Karen will attest).

Quick note: I really haven't seen enough 'Advanced' episodes to feel like I can write May and Max effectively; sorry. If this fic ends up being really long, hopefully by the time I get to later chapters I'll feel more comfortable writing for them. As it stands, I'm taking artistic license and treating this as an AU (alternate universe) fic. A bit of a cop-out, I admit, but hey, that's how it is.

Also, this chapter is quite a bit lighter than the previous two installments, just because of its nature. There's still angst and drama, of course, but there is some waffiness. Guys in the audience are hereby forewarned. -

**Disclaimer:** see prologue

_**As always, innumerable thanks to Karen for invaluable fic discussions, inspiration, friendship, and anime recommendations ('His and Hers'! Yay!).**_

* * *

_He was dreaming; that was the first thought that came to his mind as he watched a much younger version of himself dodge and weave between trees, desperately attempting to outrun his pursuer. His tiny five-year-old body could not achieve much speed, but still he ran as fast as he possibly could._

_"I'm gonna get you, Ketchum!" the voice called out from behind him, its tone filled with a deadly promise. Ash turned his head as he continued to run, desperately attempting to steal a glance at whoever was chasing him. But the shadows were too thick behind him; all he saw was a rapidly-encroaching darkness. _

_"Do you honestly think you can hide from me, Ketchum? You're a bigger fool than I thought!"_

_Tears streamed down his face as he ran faster, his breath coming in sharp pants as he willed himself to run ever faster, the only thought on his mind to elude the predator in hot pursuit. The darkness drew closer, threatening to consume him if he slowed his pace the slightest bit… _

_He fell._

_Fear and panic seized his heart; he was done for. The shadows closed in around him, and he shut his eyes as he felt it begin to devour him…_

…_when a bright light suddenly appeared, surrounding and protecting him while simultaneously casting off the darkness. He felt a comforting presence beside him, and a pair of gentle arms enveloped him in a tender embrace. _

_His eyes opened slowly as he realized that he had somehow been saved. He turned his tear-streaked face up to see his savior. "Th-thank you, miss," he stammered, feeling as though he should know her but failing to recognize her face._

_She smiled__a tired, sad little smile that seemed to break his heart. "What did you expect?" she asked, her turquoise eyes kind and warm yet at the same time weary. "I'll never leave you alone; you must remember that."_

_His brow furrowed in puzzlement. She seemed so familiar… "Miss, do I…know you?"_

_Her smile widened as she gently ruffled his mussed ebony hair. "You will," she said softly, bowing her head and allowing her auburn tresses to fall into her eyes. "You will."_

_"But you saved me from the darkness," he protested as she started to walk away. "I'll never forget that! I'll never forget __**you**__! Why are you leaving me?"_

_She stopped, her head bowed as she remained silent for a moment. "We have to be apart for awhile," she finally said in a soft voice, turning back to gaze kindly at the young boy. "That's just how it has to be. You have to be strong, because it won't be easy when I'm gone. The darkness will return, and I won't be here to stop it. But always remember that I'm with you in spirit, and I'll always come back to you." She turned away from him and resumed her silent walk, leaving him pondering her words._

_"I'll be waiting," he found himself whispering._

* * *

"Ash? Ash! Ash, please answer me!"

Ash's dark-brown eyes slowly opened, his vision blurry. "Wh…what happened?" he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"Shh…don't worry about it," that soothing voice above his prone form said gently.

His vision suddenly cleared, and his heart clenched painfully in his chest as he saw her kneeling next to him, one hand resting upon his forehead and brushing aside his sweat-dampened hair. "Misty…"

Now he remembered; the assassin, the chase, the gunshot…and Misty appearing before him like some long-since disappeared goddess, a gun held dangerously in her small, delicate hands. She had saved him from that murderous thug…and he had passed out from shock.

Misty smiled at him, continuing to whisper soothing words to him as though he were a small child. "Don't push yourself," she said softly, clasping his gloved right hand in her small one. "You've had a hard day."

She was alive; his Misty was alive…

"…Misty!" Ash cried somewhat desperately, pulling her small frame against him and crushing her to him with every ounce of strength he could muster. He vaguely heard her utter a gasp of pain but was so overwhelmed by emotion that he couldn't even stop to comfort her.

Five years…five long years of pain and anguish with no relief in sight. He'd spent day after day feeling as a man drowning, trying desperately to reach the surface, kicking and fighting violently only to pull himself further into the abyss.

But now… Ash closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of Misty's head, tightening his arms around her. The misery he'd been permanently fixed in since that day five years ago when he'd watched that coffin lowered into the ground suddenly evaporated. The love of his life had returned to him, and he felt as though he had the strength to take on the whole goddamned League by himself. "You've come back to me…" he whispered. "Oh, God, Misty…"

Pain wracked Misty's abused body as the force of Ash's embrace placed pressure upon the bruises and gashes marring her pale skin, but she remained oblivious. She had come so close to losing him, but now that she was back in his arms, the danger seemed to become as intangible as a summer mist. She rested her head against his chest and allowed herself the first real taste of comfort since that horrible, fateful day five years before.

They remained silent in that embrace for several minutes, each unable to move for finally achieving a glimpse of happiness after years of torment and hopelessness. But reality soon interfered, and Misty let out a gasp of horror and pulled herself to her feet. "Ash, we have to get out of here!" she said in a panicked whisper, grabbing his hand and retrieving her gun from its position on the floor.

"Wh—what?" Ash asked dazedly as Misty hurriedly pulled him out of the dingy apartment building, carefully peering around the corner before breaking out into a run towards the building's garage. "Where are we going?"

"Don't ask questions!" she hissed angrily, giving his arm a quick jerk as she picked up the pace, her gun held in a defensive position. "We have to make sure we're out of here before the League finds out what's become of their assassin!"

They ran through the concrete garage, quickly reaching Ash's sleek black convertible and racing out of the building as soon as he turned the key in the ignition.

"Where the hell are we going, Misty?" Ash asked loudly over the wind whipping around them.

"To my apartment," she answered simply, turning the wheel sharply and sending them racing downtown.

* * *

The man's eternally emotionless features showed a hint of panic as ten pairs of rage-filled eyes bored down upon him from within their ebony hoods. "Y-you called for me, sirs?" he asked, attempting to keep the fear from seeping into his tone but failing miserably.

The leader spoke first, his voice unmistakably angry and icy. "Agent, you convinced us that it would be more expedient to have one Ashton Ketchum destroyed through an assassin other than Misty Williams, for reasons which will soon be under intense scrutiny, and now not only is one of our most talented assassins dead, but both Ketchum and Williams have escaped!"

"I'm sorry, sir," the man said earnestly, bowing to the robed figure. "I made a grave miscalculation as to Williams's devotion to Ketchum." A scowl crossed his features. "But rest assured that I will not rest until both of them have been apprehended."

"You have one more chance, you incompetent bastard," the figure responded. "And if we find out that you have any ulterior motive whatsoever, you will soon find that all the acts of torture you have carried out upon others were child's play. Perhaps you would find it beneficial to confess any trespasses you may have carried out upon Ms. Williams."

The man slowly raised his head, a dangerous smile spreading across his features. One hand moved to press against the torn flesh of his forearm, and his mind drifted back to the unfathomable pain and humiliation he had served her as he had raped her at knifepoint, his own arousal only heightened by the desperate tears falling steadily from her eyes.

"Nothing I can think of, sirs."

* * *

Ash stepped into the small apartment carefully, casting a glance around the room. He soon felt a sense of nostalgia for his own apartment as he observed the tiny studio Misty called home. The cracked plaster of the walls were spotted with mold and mildew, and the splintered hardwood floors had long since lost their polish. There was a rickety table positioned in the kitchenette along with a water basin and a small refrigerator, and a futon lay in the corner of the room. "How can you live like this?" he asked in a whisper.

Misty let out a short laugh as she removed her thin jacket and draped it across the back of the only chair at the kitchen table. "I don't have a choice," she said simply, sighing as she settled into the chair and rested her hands upon the table. "It's not like the League gives me any options for how I want to live my life."

"You work for the League?" Ash asked incredulously, taking a step backwards. _No…there's no way…she can't be one of __**them**__…can she?_

Misty sighed once again, letting her eyes drift shut as she leaned back in her chair. "I was never given a choice," she said softly.

* * *

_"Are you nervous, Ash?"_

_He turned to her, a dazzling smile illuminating his boyish features. "Yeah, a little," he replied, his smile never wavering. "I mean, in two weeks I could be the world's youngest Pokemon Master! It's such a huge responsibility!" _

_"But it's what you've dreamed of your entire life," she responded, reaching out and grasping his hand. "And I just know you'll do great." A small blush tinted her cheeks as he stared at their clasped hands. "R_—_right?"_

_He slowly raised his eyes to meet hers, crimson beginning to spread across his face as well. She mentally began to berate herself for being so foolishly forward, when suddenly he tugged on her hand, pulling her forward and into an impromptu embrace._

_Her heart pounded in her ears as he continued to silently hold her, unspoken words hanging in the air between them. This was what she had hoped for, had prayed for ever since she had met him, and it had finally come true. She closed her eyes and leaned into their embrace._

_On the other side of the Pokemon Center, a figure clad in black smirked and made a few observations in the small notebook in his hands._

* * *

_She let out a sharp cry as she was shoved mercilessly to the concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse, turning to cast a shocked glance at her captor. "How could you?" she asked incredulously. "We were your __**friends**__! Why are you doing this?"_

_The man shook his head and laughed, waving carelessly at the four hooded figures surrounding the young woman. "You're so naïve, little girl," he called over his shoulder as he left the building, taking some kind of perverse joy out of the hurt and betrayal in her eyes. _

_"Ms. Williams," one of the figures spoke sharply. "We've been making observations lately and have noticed that you share an especially…close relationship with Mr. Ashton Ketchum, is that correct?"_

_"What? N_—_no, of course not!" she protested quickly, trying in vain to hide the blush staining her cheeks. _

_"Mr. Ketchum will become the next Pokemon Master," the figure continued, ignoring her protests. "We have decreed it to be so. He will succeed at the Championships and become a loyal servant of the League, and he shall carry out whatever deeds we assign him without a single thought of dissent." The figure's eyes narrowed from within the dark hood set upon its head. "However, there remains one rather significant obstacle in the way of our plans; that obstacle, my dear, is you." _

_"Your relationship with Mr. Ketchum provides him with strength, with a sense of honor and duty," the figure continued. "These are assets which will prove only to be hindrances in our master plan. As such, you must be removed from his life."_

_"Woah, now hold on a minute!" she cried angrily, forcing herself to her feet. "There is no way in hell I'm going to leave Ash just because a bunch of freaky Druid-wannabes tell me to! I don't care what you do to me!"_

_The figures turned to smile at each other_—_a cold, dangerous smile that sent a chill racing down her spine. "We assumed as much," the figure responded. "Therefore, we have taken all precautions to assure that you do not interfere with that which has already been decided. For starters, a team of assassins entered Cerulean City and murdered your sisters early this morning. Your entire family is now dead."_

_She felt her heart stop in mid-beat at the news, presented so simply as if to minimize the devastating effects of those words. She let out a cry and fell to her knees, feeling such incredible pain that she could no longer stand._

_"So, what does that leave in your life?" the figure asked, a playful gleam in its eyes. "Your darling love_—_Ash Ketchum. Of course, at this moment, one of our assassins has him in his sight and has orders to shoot him as soon as we say the word." He held up a small handheld radio. "And with your little boyfriend dead, what would you have left? You will never be a Water Master; the League has seen to that. You have no family, no friends. You have nothing. You __**are**__ nothing."_

_Tears began to fall from her disbelieving eyes, the pain radiating through her body at being so harshly flung to the hard ground—coupled with the beating that traitorous bastard had afforded her as he dragged her to this warehouse—was nothing compared to the complete emotional destruction she was now experiencing. To think that the League was so corrupt that they would go this far to ensure that their evil plans were carried out… _

_"What do you want me to do?" she whispered, barely even capable of coherency._

_"The first order of business is to leave Ashton Ketchum," the figure responded authoritatively. "You will say that you are returning to Cerulean City to meet with your sisters; you are under no circumstances to mention that they are…no longer with us. You will then report directly to League headquarters in Viridian City, and after three days, it will be given out that you have been shot to death. If you refuse to carry out any part of this plan—including fleeing the city or attempting to commit suicide—Ketchum will be killed, but you will be mercifully spared…so that you will be forced to live each day in agonizing _

_loneliness._

_"Any questions?"_

* * *

"What happened after that, you already know."

Ash remained frozen in his spot by the doorway, gaping at the small woman sitting listlessly at the table, her gaze focused out the small soot-stained window in the kitchen. "Misty…I had no idea…"

She turned her impossibly sad eyes to him. "And that was exactly the point."

Ash's anger at the League had been strong before, but now it had mutated into a seething rage, an incomparable desire to see them destroyed and ruined. He wanted to take each member of the organization and rip out their throats with his bare hands, not stopping until he'd killed every single one of them. And then he wanted them all to come back to life so he could do it again.

His and Misty's lives were just insignificant playthings to the League, to be toyed around with until their usefulness was exhausted and then thrown away. They had wanted him to join their ranks so badly that they had destroyed an innocent girl just because she had the poor fate to love him. "I'm so sorry, Misty. I wish there was some way I could make amends for it…"

Misty slowly stood and walked over to him, sighing and resting her head against his chest. "They wanted me to kill you," she said softly, closing her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. "They told me that you had become a subversive, that you were planning some kind of resistance or something. But…I couldn't do it. I was actually on my way to get you out of there, threats of murder be damned, but I didn't know that they'd already assigned another assassin to the case. It was dumb luck that I got there in time to take him down before he killed you." She closed her eyes more tightly and let out a choked sob. "Oh, God, Ash, you don't know what they've done to me!"

Ash felt his heart break in two as Misty once again began to sob; how many times had she cried since they'd been reunited? It was almost too much to bear. He lowered his head to place a comforting kiss against her shoulder…

…and saw a dark purple bite mark glaring at him starkly against the pale white skin.

Ash's mind froze as his sweeping gaze surveyed the apartment. Broken glass littered the kitchen floor, and a bloodied steak knife lay nearby. A small pile of clothes lay next to the bathroom door, and he observed the blood and deep tears in them with a sense of horror. His mind raced as he quickly observed the skin exposed by Misty's sleeveless shirt, registering the cuts and bruises…

_Oh my God…please, no…_

He crushed her small body against him once more with a sense of urgency, his mind awash in panic and hatred…hatred for the bastard who had done this to his Misty, hatred for the League for forcing her into a life of misery…and hatred for himself for failing to protect her. "I'm sorry, Mist….I'm so sorry…"

Misty burrowed her face into his T-shirt. "I didn't want to, Ash!" she sobbed. "I never wanted to; it sickens me to even think of him on top of me…"

"Misty, listen to me," Ash said sternly, gripping her chin and forcing her teary eyes to meet his. "As God is my witness, I'll die before I ever let them touch you again, do you understand me? No one is ever going to hurt you again as long as I live." He pulled her closer as she let out another broken sob and nodded quickly. _I promised you that at your graveside, Misty. And now that you're back from the dead, I swear to God that I'll never let anyone take you from me again._

* * *

The door to the apartment was flung open, and the man entered with a cocky grin displayed upon his features. "Where's my favorite little slut?" he asked mockingly, glancing around the room. His eyes settled upon a note taped to the refrigerator in a hurried scrawl. "The hell…?"

_You can't control me anymore._

—_Misty_

* * *

"Man, how long has it been since we've done this?"

Misty allowed a faint smile to appear upon her face as she and Ash hiked along one of the countless trails in Viridian Forest side-by-side. "It's been years," she agreed. "Makes me feel all nostalgic."

"A lot's changed since then, though," Ash said, his tone suddenly serious. "We're both wanted with a major price on our heads, we're enemies of the League, and we have absolutely no plan." He sighed and ran a hand through his spiky black hair. "Face it, Mist—we're all but done for."

"Listen to me, Ash," she said sternly, grabbing his ear and pulling him down to face her. "If there is one thing I've learned from the hell I've lived in for the past five years, it's not to ever give up hope, no matter how bleak everything seems." She smiled a little. "I guess I got that idiotic stubbornness from you."

"Gee, thanks."

"Anytime."

* * *

"Are you sure this is smart?"

Misty glanced warily at the dense forest surrounding the small clearing. "Probably not," she replied, tossing a few more sticks onto the campfire, "but I'm too tired to keep walking. I've had a really hard day."

"And I haven't?"

Misty smirked and tossed a pinecone at Ash, who caught it easily. "Just get some sleep; we can only rest for a few hours, though; the League probably has countless spies out looking for us, and we can't afford to stay in any one place for an extended period of time." She snuggled into her sleeping bag and closed her eyes.

"…Misty?"

"Yeah, Ash?"

"Would you be willing to do something for me?"

"…possibly. What?"

Ash crawled out of his sleeping bag and over to Misty's side, pulling her over to his side of the campfire. He zipped the two sleeping bags together, then climbed into the conjoined makeshift beds and held Misty's form against him. "What are you doing?" she asked softly, her protesting words sharply contrasting with her gentle tone.

"I've been completely alone for five years," he responded simply, draping an arm across her waist. "You were dead, my friends had disappeared, and I had become a tool to be used for the League's nefarious purposes. But now—" He kissed the top of her head. "—you've come back to me. And I'm not ready to let go."

Misty smiled slowly, leaning back into him and carefully shifting her weight so as not to put undue stress upon her wounds. "It's amazing, isn't it?" she mused aloud, tilting her gaze upwards to observe the starry sky. "We were both so lonely and miserable just a few hours ago, but now everything's suddenly back to the way it was five years ago. It's been ages since I was this happy; I don't ever want it to end."

"Sleep," Ash whispered to her, closing his eyes and holding her protectively to his chest. "I'll still be here in the morning."

And with that, the reunited pair slowly gave themselves over to sleep beneath the night sky.

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

_Okay, I am officially in severe panic mode over this chapter. It's not overly-angsty! Dammit, it's __**mushy**__! And I __**suck**__ at mush! Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT! _

_sigh I am not terribly satisfied with this latest installment; can ya tell? I always have a slump in the third chapter of any story I write, so it might just be a psychological thing, but I don't think that this lives up to the previous two installments. I do really like the big metaphorical introduction, though. Other than that—eh._

_I wholeheartedly apologize to my audience for making this chapter so severely AAML'y; that was never my intent for this story, but it just kind of turned out that way. Some of it may seem quite Harlequin, and for that I am truly sorry. I just got swept away with the emotion of everything. It probably seems really cheesy…dammit, I'm being really hard on myself this time, aren't I?_

_Comments and criticism welcome. Feel free to tell me what you hated about this chapter as well, 'cause I've got a list about fifty miles long. Poor Karen; I'm probably going to start bitching about that pretty soon, so be prepared. _

_Thanks for reading, guys!_


	4. Chapter Three: Obsession

**Summary:** Five years after he becomes a Pokemon Master, Ash finds himself drowning in a sea of corruption, his dreams achieved but painfully realized. Can he survive on his own against such a powerful and shadowy adversary? Is he really as alone as he thinks?

**A/N:** Everybody say it with me: "Anysia is the world's biggest idiot." With my unsurpassed editing skills I managed to delete what was originally the last line to the previous chapter and as such have lost the lead-in that I was going for. Of course, I just noticed that about ten minutes ago. Thus, the intro to this chapter is going to be a bit longer to compensate. I'm fully aware that I could just as easily go back in and edit, but I want to see if I can work around this new problem that has presented itself. crosses fingers Wish me luck.

I had two completely different versions of this chapter in my mind, but I finally went with the first one after much deliberation. This is actually somewhere between the first and second versions of the first idea (got it?), so there are a lot of ideas at play here. Hopefully they've all melded into a readable chapter.

Also, please note that I am promising right now not to be self-depreciating in my end A/N's. (I think I'm going to need more luck for that than anything else…)

**Disclaimer:** see prologue

**Thanks to:** cultnirvana, Erina-chan, Metal Mewtwo, Rae8, x Angel of the Night x, MagRowan, and Lori.

* * *

The first morning light streamed through the overhanging limbs of the trees surrounding the small clearing, its path through the trees casting dappled shadows across the young woman's tranquil, sleeping face. She smiled faintly, then tilted her head towards the warmth of the sun, never waking.

He was positively addicted to her. Despite the angry, forceful façade that she presented to the world, she was truly a gentle and kind person deep within. It was this duality, this double-edged nature of hers that fascinated him and kept her hold on his heart so strong.

He'd loved her since he first laid eyes on her, even though she probably just thought of him as a 'friend'. But soon he could feel the love radiating from her as she smiled at him from across a crowded room. His heart clenched painfully in his chest every time he saw her, and it was agony to be apart from her for even a second. He'd never known that love could be so painful.

_I've already lost you once,_ he thought to himself as he tentatively reached out one gloved hand and brushed aside a tendril of auburn hair that had fallen across her still-closed eyes, _and it nearly killed me. I'll be damned if I let anyone take you away from me now that we're together again. You're __**mine**_

That loving smile still in place, he gazed warmly at the sleeping beauty before him, silently pulling his gun from its holster at his hip and pressing the barrel against her temple.

"And if I can't have you, bitch, then nobody can."

* * *

The ten hooded figures sat silently as they watched the screens of information flash before them, profiling Ash Ketchum and Misty Williams in excruciating detail. Their fury had been unimaginable when it had first been learned that the two had escaped, and they had immediately dispatched nearly all of their assassins in an attempt to capture the rogue trainers. Viridian City had all but been torn apart, but they were nowhere to be found. Frustration permeated the air as another screen flashed, once again bearing the empty words, "We will continue to search elsewhere." Meaning, of course, that their foot soldiers had thus proved completely incompetent.

The leader of the group narrowed his eyes once more and finally slammed his fist down upon the marble table, momentarily startling his companions. "This is utterly ridiculous!" he bellowed, pointing at the screen before them. "With all the power and resources we have, we can't find two brats that can't have gone more than fifty miles? What kind of idiocy is this!?"

One of the members to his right let out an exasperated sigh and calmly said, "Sir, please be patient. It is quite true that they cannot have traveled far, as we have grounded all flights and blocked all roads leading out of the city. The rails have also effectively been stopped, so escaping by train is impossible as well. It will not take much longer to find Ketchum and Williams."

"That's what you said an hour ago, Jensen!" the leader said angrily. "Ketchum is far too much of an asset to be lost! Do you understand just how dangerous it could be for our purposes if he were to—"

"Sirs, if I may?"

Ten pairs of narrowed eyes turned to observe the young messenger standing nervously by the heavy oak doors at the entrance of the hall. "What is it, boy?" the leader asked in an annoyed voice. "This had better be as important as all hell, because we're in a bit of a crisis at the moment."

"We've found them."

* * *

His finger had just begun to tighten on the trigger when a sudden force slammed into the side of his head, knocking the pistol from his hand and sending him flying through the air and crashing against a nearby maple, the force of his impact causing a shower of leaves to rain down upon him. He clung desperately to consciousness as he tasted fresh blood filling his mouth, the faintly metallic taste filling his sense until he gagged violently. He spit once, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned his shaky gaze back to the origin of the attack.

The muscular young man's dark-brown eyes were narrowed in pure rage, and his hand still clenched into the same fist that had just plowed violently into his jaw. His spiky jet-black hair was soaking wet, and he was bare from the waist up; damn it all, he must've just walked to the nearby spring to bathe. She hadn't been alone at all. "Who the hell are you?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice, oblivious to the blood beginning to flow from the cuts on his knuckles caused by the force of his blow.

Ash Ketchum—that bastard who had taken Misty from him and deserted the League. The agent felt his blood begin to boil at the realization that it was the bane of his existence who had just dealt him what was beyond a shadow of a doubt one of the fiercest blows he'd ever received. And now that son-of-a-bitch was protectively holding a still-groggy Misty behind him as she rubbed her eyes sleepily, completely unaware of the dangerous situation before her. It was simply too much for him to bear. "Are you sure you don't recognize me, _Ash_?" he spat viciously, his gaze still alternating between the furious Master and his female charge. "Then again, it's been, what, five years? Maybe you should ask your little girlfriend there; after all, she and I know each other quite…" He smirked wickedly. "_…intimately._"

Ash heard a terrified gasp from behind him as Misty's hand went limp in his and she fell to her knees, completely frozen in fear. Ash didn't even hazard a glance at the man as he quickly turned to the young woman now sitting catatonically against the hard ground, her face now deathly pale. Misty's eyes seemed to simultaneously stare into space and at the man who had, unbeknownst to her, been half a second away from driving a bullet into her cerebrum. "P-please, not again," she whispered fearfully, unconsciously pressing her thighs together tightly and crossing her legs.

Ash's brows drew low against his face, giving him a wholly dangerous appearance. He gave Misty's hand a tender squeeze, then turned back to Misty's attacker, whose face now seemed to contain an air of…amusement? "You miserable bastard," he said in a tight voice, rage and hatred threading their way through his tone as his mind raced back to the sight of Misty's torn clothes strewn about back in her apartment. Dense as he was, even Ash had been able to deduct what had transpired mere hours before he and Misty had been reunited. And it was this man who had done it to her.

The slightest bit of fear touched the agent's mind as he observed Ash's face become dark with rage. The Pokemon Master had been known for his virtue, his kind nature, and his dedication to the preservation of humanity—but now he seemed little more than what was commonly referred to as 'League scum', those lowliest enforcers who often armed themselves with switchblades and slit innocent bystanders' throats simply for the thrill of it. High-ranking agents like he himself despised them, but they also secretly feared the power they contained, for such lowly-ranked members of the League had no compunctions with murdering their superiors as well.

"I'm going to make sure you _never_ touch Misty again, asshole," Ash said dangerously, slowly advancing upon him.

"…Ash…"

The rage burning so intensely within Ash's eyes abruptly disappeared at the whispering of his name. He cast a warning glance at his opponent and knelt next to Misty, reaching out to hold one of the hands that she had clasped around her knees. "I was such a fool to trust him…" she managed to choke out. "I can't believe I was so stupid…"

"Shh, Misty, calm down. You can't blame yourself; the League is so goddamn corrupt and deceitful that even I didn't know about it until they'd already caught me."

"But we met him before all that happened," she said somewhat desperately, turning her tear-filled eyes to meet his. "Remember? Back on that island right before the Championships?"

_Island?_ Ash's mind raced as he took Misty into his arms again, holding her as she cried for the millionth time since they'd been reunited only hours earlier. _I remember that we were taking a vacation to try and take our minds off all the stress and everything, but what does she mean that we met this guy when we wer—_

And then the memories came rushing back of that very vacation, memories of sun, surf…and a failed trainer who had immediately taken a liking to them. _It can't be…_

_Renjiro?_

* * *

_"I can't believe we've finally found the time to take a vacation!"_

_Ash turned to smile fondly at Misty as they watched the setting sun from the narrow bench upon the island's boardwalk, their cheeks nearly as crimson as the sunset as they slowly moved to clasp their hands together. There were only two weeks left until the Championships began, and Ash would be in the running for the title of Pokemon Master. His heart began to beat faster at the thought (though Misty's resting her head against his shoulder and sighing contentedly may have been a factor), and he couldn't keep a proud smile from spreading across his face. "I'm glad we're here together like this," he responded, unsure as to whether he was referring to the actual vacation or the position he and Misty were currently in. _

_"It's…nice," Misty said softly, sighing again. "You know, we never really get to spend time together anymore, what with your getting ready to become a Pokemon Master and my classes at college…sometimes I think that we've already begun to drift apart. What'll happen to us once you're a Pokemon Master and you don't have any time for me anymore?"_

_The thought had crossed his mind repeatedly over the last few months. Ash frowned slightly as he imagined being separated from Misty once again—possibly for good. It'd been painful enough when she had left him to care for the Cerulean City gym in her sisters' absence several years before, but she'd finally returned, and they'd vowed never to separate again. However, Ash knew that once he became a Pokemon Master, much of his time would be devoted to battling, publicity events, interviews, modeling for miniature 'Ash Ketchum' figurines…there would hardly be any time for him at all, which meant that he and Misty would more than likely drift farther and farther apart as he began to climb the corporate ladder into a more glamorous lifestyle._

_He really didn't know what it was; in fact, he'd spent the next few years wondering just what the hell had possessed him at that moment. Maybe it was the salt air, or maybe Misty's wistful tone, or maybe the realization of how utterly beautiful she looked in the golden light of the setting sun and knowing that he'd soon be losing her to the position he'd dreamt of his entire life…_

_He kissed her._

_A bit timidly at first, his lips resting upon hers as he mentally wondered what the next step was. But soon his eyes had drifted shut and he was leaning into the kiss, his lips slanting over hers guided by years of unexpressed love and the fear of losing the girl he held so dear to his heart. __**This is…what I've wanted all along…**_

_Suddenly, Misty broke away, an embarrassed blush spreading across her face. "Uh, h-hi, Renjiro!"_

_Ash turned to see the young man who had befriended Misty when they had first landed on the island six days before. He was darkly handsome, with longish dark-brown hair and the tall, muscular form that Misty had claimed to go so crazy for back when she adored "mature, intellectual types". But Renjiro projected such an unnerving aura that a chill never failed to run up Ash's spine whenever he came near. And then there were his eyes; they were the coldest, iciest shade of blue that Ash had ever seen, more akin to a chunk of ice slashed from a glacier than human eyes._

_But Renjiro was also apparently a failed Pokemon trainer from a small town who had come to idolize Ash as everything he could never become. Ash felt his ego swell at the memory of that conversation, when Renjiro had first told them of his history as a trainer and then shyly asked for Ash's autograph. All in all, he'd seemed like a pretty great guy, one that they'd quickly befriended and had spent quite a bit of time with on their vacation. His idolization of Ash had resulted in an astounding knowledge of his career as a Pokemon trainer, and he had gone out of his way to be friendly and congenial towards them._

_Yet now…Ash moved to untangle his hands from Misty's hair, mentally wondering when it was that he had put them there, and waved to Renjiro in what he hoped was a friendly manner. Ever since the other day, their new friend had grown cold towards them, ignoring Misty and casting some of the harshest glares humanly possible at Ash. He couldn't imagine what they could have done to annoy him so much…_

_"Sorry if I 'interrupted' you," Renjiro said sourly, adjusting the tinted sunglasses perched upon the bridge of his nose._

_"Oh, it's no trouble!" Misty said earnestly, sliding down the bench and making a place for him. "Come on; you can watch the sunset with us."_

_Renjiro let out a derisive snort and waved away her invitation. "No thanks." He turned his attention to Ash for a moment, his eyebrows lowering. Ash sighed a bit at the action, knowing that it signified that Renjiro was once again glaring at him coldly. "I have some…business to attend to." He smirked and began to walk away, but not before Ash caught a glance of the tattoo just below his shoulder. Renjiro had made it a strange habit never to wear anything other than long-sleeved shirts and pants, always in shades of black, since they'd met him, but today the island's temperature seemed a few degrees warmer than the surface of the sun, and even he had opted for a simple white muscle tee._

_"Hey, Renjiro, what's that?" Ash asked curiously, jogging over to him and inspecting the tattoo. "Wait a minute, that's the League's logo!"_

_Renjiro's features, which had remained frozen in a sort of apathetic annoyance since the other day, now contorted in rage. He angrily slapped Ash's hand away and said in a harsh whisper, "Don't try and fuck with me, kid; you have absolutely no idea who you're dealing with."_

_"Ash! Hey, what's going on?"_

_Ash's jaw remained open as Misty ran over to them, looking from Ash's shocked expression to Renjiro's now-cheerful one. "It's nothing, Misty," Renjiro said amiably, moving aside the fabric of his shirt so that she and Ash could better see the tattoo. "You're absolutely right, Ash; it's the League's logo. You see, I was so upset at having failed as a trainer that I enrolled as an intern at the League's headquarters in Viridian City. I'm actually part of a top-secret program there."_

_"Really? That's so cool!"_

_Ash finally regained his bearings enough to gape at Misty for being so excited; she obviously hadn't heard this bastard just maliciously threaten him. At any rate, this little incident only proved what he had suspected all along--Renjiro was dangerous, even if he __**was**__ working for the honorable and prestigious Pokemon League. "So, um, Renjiro," Ash asked snidely, his irritation so strong that it was nearly tangible, "what exactly do you do for the League? Janitorial work? Racketeering? Assassinations?"_

_Ash had fully expected his facetiousness to be rewarded with another scowl-and-glare combo; he'd even half-expected that cocky bastard to punch him square in the jaw. But instead he found his blood running cold as Renjiro calmly removed his sunglasses, those ice-blue eyes boring into his dark-brown ones._

_"Don't worry, Ash. You'll find out soon enough."_

* * *

"I see you've finally remembered, Ash."

Ash managed to pry his attention from Misty long enough to turn his gaze to the still-smirking League agent. "Renjiro," he spat, pulling Misty's gun from her nearby bag. "You bastard…how could you have _done_ this to her!?"

Renjiro shrugged nonchalantly, paying no mind to the gun held in Ash's tight grip. "You act like it's such a bad thing," he responded indifferently, crossing his arms across his chest. "Misty's mine; she's _been_ mine since I first laid eyes upon her back on Yasuragi Island. You just happened to be an annoying little obstacle." His features darkened. "At least, that's what I thought."

Before Ash could even react, Renjiro had rushed forward and seized the Magnum from Ash's hands, easily dodging the rogue bullet Ash had impetuously fired. He quickly pulled Misty against him and held the gun against her temple once again. "This little bitch loved you all along," he said angrily, twisting one of her wrists painfully. "And it was the stupidity of that love that blinded her; it kept her from realizing that we _belonged_ together."

"You're insane!" Misty cried angrily, ignoring the danger of her situation.

Renjiro smiled at her, placing a soft kiss against her forehead. "That's so cute, Misty; you've only been away from me for a few hours and already you're back to your old fighting self." He moved the gun to press the barrel into the hollow of her throat and gripped her chin. "Now, how do I usually punish you for speaking back to me? Oh, yes, that's right…" He released her chin and moved his hand down to cover her breast.

"Don't you dare!"

Renjiro didn't even look up as he simply adjusted the gun's position and fired towards Ash. He relished in the sound of his nemesis' sharp cry, then taunted Misty, "I wasn't looking, sweetheart; how much blood was there?"

"Not…as much as you think, you fucking bastard."

Renjiro slowly turned to see Ash panting heavily and glaring directly at him, one hand clutching his bloodied shoulder. "Hm," Renjiro remarked with a shrug. "I missed." He raised the gun again. "Well, that's remedied easily enough." His finger tightened on the trigger once more.

Suddenly, Renjiro found himself falling backwards onto the hard ground as his feet were knocked out from under him, the shot firing into the air. He groaned as the force of the impact sent waves of pain radiating up his spine, but it was soon forgotten as he saw Misty quickly grab the injured Ash's hand and rush deep into the forest with him. "You're not getting away that easily, bitch!" he swore, then followed in hot pursuit.

* * *

Ash and Misty were oblivious to the thorns and briars that tore at their clothes and skin as they dashed through the forest, weaving through the trees and double-backing in a desperate attempt to dodge their pursuer. After a few minutes of frantic running, they finally stopped to rest, hidden within a thicket of sturdy oaks. "Are you okay?" Ash whispered, gently stroking Misty's dirt-streaked face.

"What about you?" she asked seriously, turning her attention to the bullet wound in his right arm. "Renjiro may have missed, but you're still hit."

"Don't worry; it's pretty shallow," he responded, tearing a strip of fabric from his already-torn cargo pants and wrapping the wound. "I was lucky that it just grazed me." He let out a sigh and cast a wary glance around them. "So what now? Do we just wait until Renjiro catches up with us, or do we start running again? I mean, we're sitting ducks; we're completely unarmed."

A slight smile crossed Misty's features as she rolled up the bottom of her left pant leg, revealing a concealed ankle holster and removing a small handgun. "Not quite," she said with an impish smirk.

Ash suppressed a relieved laugh and hugged Misty to his bare chest. "I knew there was a reason I loved you."

* * *

Renjiro scowled as he tore through the forest, his mind completely focused upon finding Ash and Misty and obliterating them. His back still smarted, but it was nothing compared to the pain he felt knowing that it was his Misty who had thwarted his attack on Ash and helped the traitor escape. He had long ago accepted that she loved Ash, though he had yet to understand exactly why, but he knew that she loved him as well.

His mind unconsciously flashed back to that first day he had met her, when his long-standing obsession with that fiery goddess had begun…

* * *

_Renjiro surveyed the vacationers strolling leisurely along the boardwalk as he tightened his hand on the small notebook. This was his first official spying mission for the League, and he was determined to get it just right. After all, how hard could it be to keep an eye on a __**potential**__ Pokemon Master and make observations of his behavior? It was child's play, really, but Renjiro was just happy that the League considered him important enough to assign him a job at all._

_Unfortunately, he hadn't run into this Ash Ketchum guy yet, so he'd spent much of the morning scouring the island in search of the young trainer. Occasionally his hand would drift inconspicuously to the notebook so that he could steal a glance at the small photograph taped to the inside cover, refreshing his memory as to what Ketchum looked like. He'd seen one or two people who resembled him, but so far no luck._

_Renjiro sighed as he continued to observe the cheerful faces of the tourists chatting away happily with their friends and family, oblivious to his presence. There was a stout woman with a stroller loudly scolding the toddler at her side, an old man guarding a sandwich from a curious seagull, two children attempting to get a kite airborne, and…_

_Renjiro felt his heart stop in mid-beat as he observed the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen contentedly paging through a novel as she reclined comfortably upon one of the benches lining the boardwalk. Her long red hair flowed over her shoulders and nearly down to her waist, and the pale blue sundress she wore was just tight enough to display her lithe body and its tempting curves. Her pale skin seemed to shimmer in the light of the late-morning sun, and every so often her pink-tinged lips would turn up in a slight smile at the sound of laughing children running past._

_At that exact moment, Renjiro fell head-over-heels in love with her._

_**You're supposed to be finding this trainer kid,**__ his mind chastised him even as his feet were guiding him over to her side. __**This'll only cause you trouble.**_

_**That may be so, but this is the kind of trouble worth getting into.**__ Renjiro smiled as he sat down on the bench and said, "Hello."_

_She smiled politely and looked up momentarily from her book. "Hi."_

_"Good book?"_

_"Yeah, actually. __**The Awakening,**__ by Kate Chopin. It's pretty interesting."_

_"Chopin really does a great job with mood, doesn't she?"_

_She turned quizzically to him, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Yeah, she really does. You know her?"_

_"Of course, doesn't everybody?" He extended his hand. "I'm Renjiro Nanahara."_

_"Misty Williams. Are you on vacation here, too?"_

_"I'm actually on a business trip."_

_"Oh; my friend and I are taking a bit of a vacation. See, we've got this thing coming up, and…"_

_Renjiro listened intently as she continued to speak for the next ten minutes straight, reveling in being able to be so close to this young woman. He'd never felt so alive, and he prayed to God that nothing would come between them._

* * *

_Later that day, Renjiro anxiously glanced at his watch as he jogged towards the beach in complete elation. After spending much of the morning talking, Misty had invited him to come to dinner with herself and her friend, and he'd gladly accepted the invitation. Of course, he was slightly dismayed to discover that her friend was, in fact, male, but Misty was so adamant that they were "just friends" that his panic easily abated._

_**6:45…so I'm a little early,**__ Renjiro thought with a shrug as he walked up the ramp to the boardwalk, shielding his eyes as the glare from the sunset assaulted his eyes. He was captivated by the brilliant red of the sunset, its fire and intensity reminding him of the red-haired beauty from earlier that day. __**I must really be falling for her.**_

_Renjiro's mind was still focused solely upon Misty as he descended the wooden stairs onto the beach, removing his sandals and relishing the feeling of the soft sand against his bare feet. He wondered what it would be like to hold Misty in his arms as they sat together and watched this same beautiful sunset, just enjoying being together._

_"Isn't it beautiful?"_

_Renjiro turned sharply towards the sound of the voice carried to him on the wind. There she was, standing barefoot in the surf with the friend she had mentioned, her red hair tossed about by the wind. Renjiro felt his heart begin to pound at the mere sight of her and ducked behind the sand dune beside him. __**I've gotta calm down before I go over to meet up with them. Misty'll think I'm some kind of lunatic.**__ After his heart had finally stopped pounding, he stood and turned back to face them—_

—_and felt his heart immediately break into a million pieces as he watched Misty and that…that…'friend' gaze lovingly at each other, then move closer and share a quick, soft kiss. Renjiro felt as though someone had just reached into his chest, ripped out his heart, poured salt onto it, then ground it into the soft sand with their heel. __**But…she said that they were just friends. Just friends, dammit! Friends…**_

_It was only when his heart rate returned to normal that Renjiro regained his focus, squinting hard at the man now gently holding Misty in his arms. He frantically reached into his jeans pocket and extracted the bent photograph, holding it close to his face and alternating his gaze between it and the man. __**My God…that's him! He's that Ash Ketchum guy I've been searching for all day!**_

_Renjiro felt a malicious smile tug at the corners of his mouth as recalled just what his orders were. __**I've been worried over nothing,**__ he thought with a laugh, smiling genuinely as he strode across the beach to meet up with the two. __**Enjoy it now, Ash; she won't be yours for much longer.**_

* * *

Tears suddenly stung Renjiro's eyes as his memory assaulted him with images of all the other times he'd seen Ash and Misty together on that vacation. Misty had been so kind towards him; they'd made a real connection, he could feel it, damn it! And then she'd turned around and given her love to another man? The pain from five years ago still plagued him.

Even when he'd succeeded in stealing Misty from Ash--when they'd been separated for the League's own nefarious purposes—he'd never received her love. That soft gaze in her eyes that he'd first seen directed towards Ash on the beach that day so many years ago…it had never been his to cherish.

_Why, Misty?_ he thought silently as he continued to make his way through the dense forest. _Why couldn't you ever look at…me that way?_

* * *

"I can't…run any farther..."

Ash cast a worried glance back at Misty, who had fallen to her knees against the forest floor and was now panting heavily. "Misty," he pleaded, kneeling next to her and tilting her head up. "We've come too far to give up now; we have to keep going!"

"I can't…I'm exhausted…"

"Misty, you have to"

He stopped in mid-sentence as he detected the sound of rushing water coming from just beyond a nearby clump of trees. "It can't be…"

"What, Ash?" Misty managed to ask, her breaths slowly returning to normal.

Ash didn't answer her, carefully avoiding the thorny bushes nearby and edging his way through the trees, Misty following closely.

It was almost like a dream—the trees in the foreground, the sparkling river, the rushing waterfall crashing over the rocks below…

It was the place where they first met.

Ash's hand clasped Misty's tenderly, and together they emerged from the forest, battered and bleeding but altogether happy. "H-how did we end up here?" Misty asked in wonderment, gazing around as if in a daze.

"I honestly don't know," Ash said, his tone identical to hers. "But I'm really glad." His mind drifted back to their first meeting, when the beautiful woman beside him had been nothing more than a scrawny little girl…with the bad fate to catch a half-drowned boy and his Pikachu on her fishing line. Twelve years had passed since then, and the two of them once again stood together in the same exact spot. Ash pulled Misty into a tight embrace, squeezing his eyes shut as another wave of pain shot up his arm from the bullet wound. "We've been to Hell and back together, Misty," he said softly, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "And if I have to die, then I'm glad it's in this spot with you."

Tears formed in their eyes as they came together for one final kiss, their encompassing love and anticipation of death fueling their passion. After a few intense moments, they finally broke apart, breathing heavily. "I love you, Mist," Ash said after a moment's hesitation, resting his forehead against hers.

"I love you, too, Ash. God, it feels so good to finally say that," she responded with a slightly relieved laugh. It was so bittersweet; years of anguish and separation had forced the two of them to commit unspeakable horrors, and they had responded by pushing aside their emotions and committing themselves to a life of apathy. The Ash and Misty that the world had come to know had died, replaced by hollow representations who knew naught but what they were told and lived in misery.

But then they had been reunited, and the two of them had felt their long-dormant feelings awakening—not just love for each other, but hope, joy, and the sense of being alive. And they both knew that they'd rather die having once again experienced that happiness than returning to the hellish lives that they had been forced into.

"What a touching scene."

The two were wrenched from their reverie as two gunshots resounded through the clearing, shattering the tranquility of the forest. Ash and Misty looked simultaneously to see a smirking Renjiro holding Misty's smoking Magnum in his extended hands. Misty let out a choked groan at the sensation of the bullet tearing through her torso; the pain was absolutely excruciating. "I'll see you in hell, bitch," Renjiro said sweetly, then fired.

With his last ounce of strength, Ash tightened his arms around Misty and in one swift motion sent them both tumbling into the river. _Misty…forgive me for not protecting you…_ And everything went black.

* * *

"Agent? Agent! Agent Nanahara, answer your communicator at once!"

Renjiro slowly lowered the gun, looking dazedly at the wristwatch-like device strapped to his wrist. He silently pressed a small button upon its side.

"Nanahara? Where the hell have you been, Agent? We demand that you explain"

The leader's voice ended abruptly as Renjiro tossed the device into the air and fired.

* * *

_I…am…exhausted. This is a) the longest piece I've ever written, and b) the longest I have ever worked on a chapter (about eight-and-a-half hours total). The whole romance motif is a bit strong here as well…remembers promise made in the initial A/N's about bashing self…nevermind. I'm really too tired to complain, any way. Just make note of the fact that the quality slipped greatly towards the end because I practically fell asleep against the keyboard. _

_Also, Renjiro's name does have a specific meaning. Since he's pretty much the most twisted, psychopathic character I've ever created, I chose the name 'Renjiro', meaning 'pure'. (I love irony.) His last name, 'Nanahara', is the last name of the main character of 'Battle Royale'. Read it. NOW._

_Much thanks to all of you guys who reviewed, and especially to Karen, who checked out the first part of this chapter and assured me that it was okay._

_Reviews greatly appreciated, though not compulsory. I sure do enjoy them, though._


	5. Chapter Four: Opposition

**Summary:** Five years after he becomes a Pokemon Master, Ash finds himself drowning in a sea of corruption, his dreams achieved but painfully realized. Can he survive on his own against such a powerful and shadowy adversary? Is he really as alone as he thinks?

**A/N:** I. Hate. The. Fucking. Flu.

Sorry for the strong language, guys, but I had been lucky enough not to become afflicted by this most hated illness for the past eight years, but this is the **second goddamned time** I've had it this year alone. I feel totally high from all the Nyquil I've been downing. Whee. Seriously, though, it was a complete and utter bitch to finally get this chapter finished, let alone posted early! Blame it on me being too stupid to realize when I should turn off the freakin' computer and lay down to recuperate. I think I'm ready to die now…

On a brighter note, Happy Early Thanksgiving! Actually, most of my readers are from outside the US, so it's just a Thursday, really. And I actually don't celebrate this inane holiday honoring the destruction of an entire culture by those Puritan bastards. My family's descended from the Normans (very early French folk), anyway.

Okay, now onto the notes for this chapter. I've taken a very common aspect as far as 'evil League' fics are concerned and put my own personal spin on it. Hopefully, it's never been done before, but if it has, I'm sure Erina-chan will be the first one to spot it (dammit, I have no idea how she does it, but this girl manages to guess all the twists and turns by the first paragraph! Am I that predictable? disturbed frown). Anyway, if I manage to surprise one person, I'll be quite pleased.

**Disclaimer:** see prologue

**Thanks to:** cultnirvana, Rae8, Erina-chan, Silent Sigh, and Metal Mewtwo.

**Special Dedication:** Inexpressible thanks are in order to my dear friend IRL, Erica. This girl has helped me maintain my sanity many days and kept me from lashing out upon my fellow (stupid) students. When you manage to finally read this far, Saint Erica, please know that it is eternally appreciated.

* * *

"It's just come over the board, sir; Ash Ketchum and Misty Williams are dead."

A quiet murmur echoed throughout the marble hall, the ten hooded figures quietly conferring amongst themselves about this new development. They had long suspected that matters would finally come to a head between themselves and the young Master Ketchum, but they had always assumed that any potential rebellion would be quelled within the blink of an eye.

But as of yet, _nothing_ was going according to plan. First, Ketchum was never to have discovered that the love of his life was still alive, let alone be reunited with her. In the event that the assassin they dispatched was somehow stopped from carrying out his mission, Ketchum's escape was to be immediately thwarted by their highest-ranking agent—Renjiro Nanahara. And then life would return to this semblance of normalcy they still retained.

Yet now Ketchum and Williams were not only together once more but had managed to elude the League's grasp and escape into the depths of the Viridian Forest. It was there that Nanahara had found them, but instead of following procedure and simply shooting them on the spot, he had goaded the young Pokemon Master and nearly raped his female companion. Hardly protocol. And then when Nanahara had finally completed his task and gunned down the two subversives, he had somehow destroyed his communicator and now roamed freely about as a rogue assassin.

"I had warned the members of this council not to become so irresponsible in their duties," one of the shadowy figures admonished in a harsh tone. "Once certain…issues were brought to light early yesterday evening, we had decided that Ketchum was a far greater asset to us alive than dead. And now all that we have worked for in keeping such a dangerous individual as Ketchum safe all these years has been destroyed with a few gunshots! You informed us that he was to be captured alive, 'O Exalted One'!"

The Leader calmly turned to face the decidedly young member of the council who had dared to speak such words of insolence to him. "I would remind you to watch your tongue, boy," he said simply, his tone tinged with danger and malice. "For you have only recently become one of us. As for Ketchum's…departure from this world…" He frowned from within the cowl of his robe. "…I do not think it wise to believe so strongly in Renjiro's abilities as an assassin; indeed, the boy is mediocre at best. Do you understand me, my brethren?"

A collective cry of assent sounded throughout the eight hooded figures, joined by a slightly less heartfelt reply from the youngest of them.

"Now then," the Leader continued. "If we are to believe that Ketchum is still alive, this does not mean that our safety is assured. Indeed, such a truth would prove to be much more dangerous at first than its alternative. If Ketchum were to find out about—"

His words ended abruptly as an ear-shattering explosion rocked the hall.

* * *

_Dammit…I…I can't…see…_

Ash groaned as his eyes slowly began to adjust to the glaring brightness of the room, the harsh neon light casting an eerie glow upon the hospital-white walls. A stab of pain immediately shot up his arm as he shifted his body a bit and attempted to take in his surroundings. _Am I in hell?_

_Sure is bright here._

Cradling his injured arm protectively against his chest, Ash carefully slid off the stainless steel table and gazed around the room. It was obviously some kind of medical examination room, judging by the rows of gleaming steel instruments equipped with various blades neatly arranged upon the long silver countertops. The neon lights overhead sounded a constant, comforting hum, and the antiseptic odor of the room reminded Ash just why he hated hospitals. _Where in God's name am I?_

"So, you're finally awake."

Ash's hand immediately went to his belt in a vain attempt to arm himself, belatedly remembering that he hadn't been equipped with his Colt since before he'd left to visit his mother the other day. He shut his eyes against what he was sure would be yet another gunshot, only to hear a comforting laugh coming from behind him.

"Calm down, Ash; am I really that terrifying?"

_Wait a minute…I know that voice…_

Ash turned slowly to face this new threat, still shielding his wounded arm. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as his vision confirmed what his hearing had long since registered.

"B…Brock?"

Brock smiled kindly at his young friend, clapping him on the back in a friendly gesture. "Hey, man. How're those wounds healing?"

"Brock! You—you're alive!"

Brock's smile slowly faded to be replaced by a hopelessly sad and half-hearted smirk. "I'm holding my own. Anyway, you're really lucky we found you when we did; if we'd stumbled across you only a few minutes later, you would've been gone."

The memories soon came rushing back to him in one brilliant flash. The realization of Renjiro's identity…his vow to die with Misty if need be…those two fateful gunshots felling them while still within their tender embrace. He was still alive, yes, but… "Misty? Oh my God, Brock, where's Misty!?"

"Calm down, Ash!" Brock said quickly, rushing forward to restrain his suddenly near-hysterical friend. "Misty's fine; she's down in another of the med rooms, I think. She was in a lot worse shape than you were; apparently, she took a shot head-on. At any rate, she's recovering pretty well. They took care of her first since she'd lost so much blood."

Ash immediately let out the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding, his mind awash in relief. _Thank God she's alive…I don't know what I'd do if I lost her again…_A thought suddenly crossed his mind, and he gazed curiously around at the sterile white room. "Brock, where the hell are we?"

Brock smiled and simply informed him, "We're at the main headquarters of the Opposition."

* * *

Ivy choked the cracked foundations of the ancient stone church, its yard long-since neglected due to the League's massacre of the area's denizens twelve years earlier. Years of dead foliage collecting upon the knoll had made the thick grass underfoot magnificently lush and green, the gentle fragrance sharply contrasting the somber mood of the moonlit expanse.

"Here is where it all began," Renjiro mused aloud as he slowly strolled through the neglected rows of tombstones, the cemetery plots overrun with weeds and dying cassia lilies. "And here is where it ended. Life comes full-circle like that, you know?" He took another drag from the stubby cigarette held between his blood-stained fingers and exhaled, the smoke twisting and turning within the night air like lost souls desperately trying to retain their grip on the mortal world. His mother had been like that…

Renjiro scowled and shook his head, continuing his lonely trek up the grassy hill, finally kneeling beside one cracked tombstone and running a calloused hand across its granite surface. "I promised you a long time ago that I'd help bring that bastard to his knees," he whispered. "And—I know that it's been ten years since then, and I've barely made any progress…" He fought back the tears threatening to fall, grinding out his cigarette upon a bare patch of dirt. "…but I was just a kid then, barely even old enough to make it on my own, you know? I couldn't even take care of myself, let alone avenge my mother." He let out a short, bitter laugh and stood. "Things have changed since then, though. I'm a man now, and I'm old enough and smart enough to have finally formulated a plan. I swear to you on my life, Mother—I'll bring him down."

A smirk crossed his darkly handsome features as he raised one shaky hand to touch the tattoo emblazoned upon his shoulder. "Everything's finally beginning to come together."

* * *

"And those rooms over there are some of the lesser computer labs…this is the weaponry department…over there's the kitchen…"

Ash gazed around the spotless facilities in wonderment, hardly daring to believe that such a sophisticated rebellion against the League existed. Of course, there had been rumors passed along the line back when he had been yet another of the League's dutiful employees, but he, like everyone else, had dismissed them as mere fantasy, some disgruntled Trainer's way of inciting fear into the hearts of the good, 'law-abiding' patrons of the upstanding Pokemon League. Even later into his career, Ash came to regard the Opposition as yet another metaphor for hope; perhaps it did indeed exist, but there was nothing in his life to suggest that he would ever even obtain a glimpse of it.

"The spy satellite…surveillance return room…the snack bar…"

But then, only about a month earlier, that mysterious letter had appeared, sandwiched between a sweepstakes notification and some political garbage. There was no return address, the stamp was plain, and the letter itself had been typed, offering no opportunity for the possible recognition of the author's scrawl. It simply said, "The Opposition aids the subversives. None must fight alone."

Ash had thrust the paper into his pants pocket as soon as he had read it, glancing fearfully around his spacious corner office and fearing immediate retribution from the eternally-watchful trio of security cameras recording every motion within the room. But a month had passed without his being hauled in to speak to the 'members of the council', so that was definitely a plus. And whether or not he believed in the Opposition or not, Ash secretly carried the paper, now marred by the marks of countless pens and pencils and torn at one corner, with him wherever he went, finding childish comfort within the idea that somehow, somewhere, there might be a chance of escaping from this hellish nightmare.

"And this….is the main control room."

Ash's initial conception that any rebellion against the League would be woefully primitive evaporated as he observed the decidedly high-tech operation that seemed to be centered within this, the main control room. Giant electronic screens lined the walls, which slanted into cathedral ceilings soaring above them at nearly fifty feet. Countless individuals sat at computer terminals, carefully monitoring incoming data. A series of figures upon one of the screens fluctuated rapidly, and another—Ash quickly deducted that this was a global positioning system—alternated between a series of flashing red and green dots. There was a wide platform in the middle of the room, upon which a holographic combat strategy board was being scrutinized by a bearded man in a drab gray uniform. To his right sat a bespectacled young man who typed at a furious pace as he attempted to transcribe each of the orders the man barked out, while to his left stood—

"Misty!"

Misty turned quizzically at the sound of her voice being called, a desperately relieved smile illuminating her features as she ran over to Ash, wrapping her arms tightly around his bandaged torso. He nearly screamed at the pain wracking his body from the sudden force but instead just held her and thanked whatever god might be listening that she had somehow survived Renjiro's attack.

Brock allowed an amused grin to illuminate his features, cocking an eyebrow suggestively at the two. "I always knew there was something between you guys," he said in that same teasing tone that several years ago would have resulted in his ear nearly being ripped from his head as an angered (and clearly embarrassed) Misty loudly denied any attraction to the dense young trainer. But it was clearly a testament to how much had transpired between the two when they ignored his comment and continued to bask in their close proximity to each other.

"Well, isn't this convenient? Both of our League deserters have come together right here in the main control room."

Ash, Misty, and Brock turned in one motion to see the gray-uniformed man smirking at them from his position upon the central platform. "Ash, this is General Konishi, the chief strategist of the Opposition. He's the one who granted clearance for us to pull you and Misty out of the river," Brock informed him, his cheerful gaze dimming a bit as he exchanged a look with the general.

"I suppose you're going to call us 'League scum' and parade us in front of a firing squad at sun-up?" Ash asked sarcastically, releasing Misty from his embrace and taking an aggressive stance.

The general's features remained set in a sense of passive amusement. He switched off the combat strategy board and descended the short flight of stairs adjacent to the platform, observing, "Well, yes, indeed, Master Ketchum, you are the highest-ranked member of the League…at least, _officially_, that is. You've remained fiercely loyal to the League throughout the past five years, as your status as 'Pokemon Master' would surely be jeopardized by any subversion on your part. Am I correct?"

Ash scowled angrily at the general's condescending tone and amused expression. "As you said, _officially_ I was the League's biggest supporter. But I must have done something to piss them off recently, seeing as how they tried to kill me yesterday."

The general shrugged off Ash's defensive comments. "Please, Master Ketchum, rest assured that we are well-aware of your recent…troubles with the League. Our intelligence reports indicate that they have come to see you as a subversive and had thus ordered you to be shot on sight. However…" His amused smirk settled into a troubled frown. "…it has recently been learned that their orders have changed quite considerably. You are now to be captured alive, though for what purposes we have yet to ascertain."

"The bottom line is, don't immediately jump to the defensive, Ash," Misty warned him softly, pressing a hand against his uninjured arm. "We could really use some allies right now, and these guys hate the League as much as we do."

"Indeed. And that is why I originally allowed Agent Harrison to bring the two of you into our facilities; anyone on the run from the League must have _some_ kind of moral conscience."

"Thanks," Ash noted sarcastically. Misty may have seemed quite at ease within the Opposition's headquarters, but years of being surrounded by treachery and corruption had afforded him a healthy, well-developed skepticism. And there was something about this operation that bothered him.

"You seem to be troubled, Master Ketchum."

He turned his attention back to the general who was now regarding him curiously, clearly not understanding why someone who had just nearly been gunned down by the League would not trust the organization's mortal enemy. "I…I'm just not sure I can really put too much stock in that whole 'My enemy's enemy is my friend' stuff. I've been betrayed far too many times to really trust something that vague. What if our ideals are worlds apart, huh?"

"Ash, listen to me…" Brock began, but he was cut off by a simple wave of the general's hand.

"Master Ketchum, I assure you that our goals are intrinsically the same," the general said in a soothing tone clearly adapted to consoling countless individuals with natural worries concerning the Opposition. "The League is an organization of unsurpassed evil and corruption and must be felled at any cost; this is the primary objective of the Opposition, and we will do all in our power to ensure that the League is finally destroyed. This is what you have longed to see occur since you first realized how truly malicious the League was, is it not?"

"…yeah."

"I understand your apprehension, Master Ketchum; it's to be expected given the cynicism bred into you after years of being led to believe that there was no hope in this world of escaping from the League's nefarious clutches. But rest assured—we will destroy them."

"General Konishi!"

Ash glanced across the room to see a mousy young woman holding a communicator to her ear running frantically towards them. "Sir, it's just been confirmed; the League's headquarters in Viridian City have been hit by the missile launched several minutes ago!"

A collective cheer erupted throughout the room, and Ash even felt a strange sense of relief washing over him at the possibility of finally being free from the evil that had hung over his head every day for the last five years. "D-does that mean that it's finally over?" he questioned carefully, gazing up at one of the screens that now displayed an image of flames licking at the steel-and-concrete structure he instantly recognized as the League's main headquarters.

The general laughed heartily and shook Ash's hand. "It's a start, son; if we're lucky, in a matter of days, the League will be completely destroyed…and you'll finally be free to do as you please."

The hesitant relief he had felt at the news now seemed to erupt into elation at the very idea that he could one day be free from the figurative shackles that had bound him to evil for the last five years. Ash felt tears beginning to prick his eyes, and he leaned down to share a kiss with the equally-delighted Misty.

"Sir? Casualty figures just came over the board. 846 dead, about three thousand more injured."

Ash's mind seemed to freeze in horror as the figure began to sink in; Misty's features, which had mere seconds ago been awash in relief and joy, were now absolutely horrified. He cast a glance towards Brock, who simply shook his head sadly, then turned angrily to the general. "General Konishi, how could this have happened!? Over eight hundred people have somehow died! Could the missile have somehow gone off-course or something? How could the Opposition have made such a grave miscalculation?"

The general's joyous smile never wavered, but instead of relieving Ash it now chilled him to the marrow. "My dear Master Ketchum," he said patiently, "I never said our objective was to protect the people, did I?"

* * *

_Ash let out a heavy sigh as he stared down upon the citizens of Viridian City going about their daily lives. It had only been two months since he had been initiated as an official Pokemon Master, and already the inherent corruption that he hadn't even known to exist had begun to choke the proverbial life from him. __**God, was I really that naïve before? That innocent?**__ As the thought crossed his mind, he gazed forlornly upon the unsuspecting people on the streets below._

_It was sheer agony to see them engaged in the simplest tasks, and he quickly came to envy and despise them as literal representations of everything he had lost—innocence, naivety, humanness, and warmth. But though he found himself loathing them more and more each day, Ash soon found himself desperately wanting to shield these poor oblivious fools from the evil that had ensnared his unwitting self. It was already too late for him, but perhaps he could keep another person from falling prey to the League._

_As time passed, they became his family of sorts—the loud housewife in the tenement nearby who argued daily with the street vendors over the prices of various goods, the little girl with the glittery pink backpack who passed by this building presumably on her way home from school, the silent old man who sat at one of the tables of the sidewalk café and engaged himself in a solitary game of chess…they became a part of him, and he lived vicariously through them, experiencing the minutiae of their lives through his imagination compensating for what little he actually knew about them. __**Someday, this whole organization's going to hell,**__ he thought one day as he smiled bitterly at the little girl attempting to feed a cracker to a stray puppy, __**and when that happens, I pray to God that I can keep you safe.**_

* * *

Ash fought back the tears forming in his eyes and the bile rising to the back of his throat at the thought of so many innocent lives lost. And for what? The destruction of the League? He began to think that his initial conception was right; the League was just too goddamned powerful to take out, no matter how hard they tried. The only way to even rattle their cage a bit would be to forsake the lives of the innocents in an attempt to—

His heart clenched painfully as the slow sweep of the camera displaying footage of the wreckage that had once been the south side of Viridian City afforded him a glimpse of what had once been that little girl's backpack, now charred nearly beyond recognition.

Ash felt incomparable rage begin to course through his veins, his immeasurable anger akin only to that which he had felt when he had returned to the makeshift campsite to see Renjiro nearly drive a bullet through Misty's skull. "You miserable bastard," he found himself saying in a low, dangerous voice, barely even recognizing it as his own. "You denounce the League for being corrupt and destroying innocent lives, and then you turn right around and do the exact same fucking thing! How the hell can you possibly justify this!?"

"Ash…"

Misty's fearful tone beckoned him, but the general's words interrupted his thoughts. "Master Ketchum, honestly; such sentimental nonsense is quite out of place in war. The Opposition is concerned with restoring the balance of power." Ash found himself becoming more and more disturbed as the dangerous glint within the general's eyes intensified. "The whole world can go up in smoke for all we care; as long as the League is destroyed, that is all that matters. How do you think that such a supposedly 'rag-tag' operation as the Opposition came to be so refined? Quite simple actually—the rage fueling others and myself at being used so mercilessly by the League afforded us the necessary willpower to stop at nothing to destroy them."

"How could the League have 'used' an entire organization? The only time they really did that was with—"

"Ash!"

Ash's mind registered the frightening truth behind the general's words just as the terrified insistence in Misty's tone once again chilled his blood. It all made terrible sense now—their lack of concern for innocent lives, their anger towards the League, the nagging feeling that had plagued him since he first entered the central control room…

…and Misty's now calling attention to the all-too familiar insignia emblazoned upon the uniforms of a group of individuals now assembling at the far side of the room.

The Opposition was in reality nothing more than the remnants of Team Rocket.

* * *

"Are you sure you have to leave?"

Ash couldn't help but feel slightly guilty at the sadness in Brock's tone as he saw them to the gates of the Opposition's headquarters. But after witnessing first-hand that the so-called 'Opposition' was in reality just as, if not more, malicious than the League, he and Misty had agreed that they were better off making it on their own, dangerous though it may be. "I'm afraid so, Brock. I just…" His mind drifted back to the memories of those smiling faces reminding him of everything he had lost; now that they had been destroyed with such contempt, it terrified him to think that this might indeed be a portent of his own fate. "…I think that we're probably safer on the outside."

"Hey, Brock?" Misty asked softly. "Why don't you come with us? I mean, we're not exactly the safest of people you could be with right now, but it's got to be better than staying with these…these…" An involuntary shudder ran up her spine as she recalled the live feed projecting those horrific images from the charred ruins of southern Viridian City. "_…murderers._"

Brock smiled sadly, placing a comforting hand upon each of their shoulders. "I've missed you two a lot, you know that? I mean, when we first learned that the two of you were killed, I couldn't even believe it. I didn't _want_ to believe it." He laughed humorlessly. "But here we are together again. Just like old times, huh?"

Ash and Misty stared wordlessly at him, not comprehending the message behind his seemingly empty words.

He shook his head. "I can't come with you," he said simply, withdrawing his hands. "Ash, you know how about two and a half years ago the League instigated that whole crack-down on all the gym leaders? They gave us an ultimatum—submit or die. A lot of 'em chose the latter. As for me, they…" Brock seemed to be fighting back tears for a moment but quickly regained his composure. "Well, it doesn't really matter what they did. Anyway, the point is, I kind of 'disappeared'. They think that I'm still alive, but they're not entirely sure. Unbeknownst to them, I've been with the Opposition the entire time."

"But dammit, Brock, they're _Team Rocket_! We've despised them since the very beginning!" Ash asserted, attempting to sway his friend back to their side.

"Ash," Brock responded patiently. "The second I leave here, I'm a dead man. I've got a price on my head only beaten by the one on yours; got it?" He sighed heavily, then turned his gaze skyward. "Besides, I'd only be a liability to you guys, anyway. You've still got a chance to make it out there; it'll be rough going, but as long as you two are together, I don't think there's anything in this world that can stop you."

"Brock, what the hell did they do to you to make you give up like this?" Misty asked somewhat desperately.

Brock didn't answer; instead, he simply waved goodbye to them and started back towards the concrete building.

* * *

The fire had long-since been extinguished. The mere thought of those fools at the Opposition having such arrogance as to believe that they could demolish the League with one blast was absolutely hysterical, and the members of the council had shared quite a hearty laugh over the situation once the source of the impact upon the building had been identified.

"But, my brethren," the Leader said amiably, leaning back in his chair a bit. "I have grown weary of such childish antics. Indeed, they have grown most tiresome." He motioned carelessly to a black-uniformed technician watching him expectantly from the far corner of the room.

"Fire."

* * *

_It sure was nice to see them again._

Brock rolled over in the narrow bed for the twelfth time, sleep continuing to elude him as his thoughts returned to his meeting with Ash and Misty. It had been wonderful to be reunited with the friends that he had long ago believed to be dead; the only drawback lay in the fact that it unfortunately brought long-suppressed memories to the forefront of his mind…memories that he had desperately tried to forget but continued to haunt him with a vengeance.

Had it only been two and a half years ago that that terrible decree had been issued, declaring that all gym masters must immediately report to League headquarters for assignment or else be killed? Brock remembered assuring his wife and his young daughter (had she even turned two at that point?) that there was nothing to fear, though he secretly wondered just how he could possibly escape his fate this time around. Had things been different, he and his fellow gym leader, Misty, would have concocted some scheme and managed to escape, rescuing Ash from the League's clutches as well. But Misty was dead, and Ash was too far gone to be saved. He would have to go at it alone.

It was the next day when they came. Brock still didn't know how they'd learned so quickly that he had no intentions of joining them; after all, the notice had explicitly stated that he had seventy-two hours to respond, and only forty-eight had passed. The images of his wife and daughter's bloodied forms lying prone upon the living room floor had been burned upon his retinas, and to this day he could not close his eyes without being reminded of that day, when he had returned home from work to discover the League agent turning from the corpses to hold him at gunpoint and insist that he come along without a struggle.

He'd never even held a gun before; in retrospect it must have been a combination of rage and adrenalin that had allowed him the strength to pry the gun from the agent's hand and drive a shot into his chest. For several minutes he stood there in a daze, the gun still held in his outstretched hands. Finally, when the realization of the act he had committed had finally sunk into his terrified mind, he flung the gun as far away from him as humanly possible and fled.

He'd been with the Opposition ever since.

And yet now Brock had come to learn that not only were Ash and Misty both alive, but they had reunited and were themselves now on the run from the League's wrath. The severity of their situation had brought back unwanted memories of the terrible act he had perpetrated in committing the murder of that League agent, and even though that same man had first murdered his wife and daughter, he couldn't bring himself to forgive his actions.

_I guess this is the end of the line for me,_ Brock thought sadly, shutting his eyes. _Things are only going to get worse from here, and there's nothing more I can do. Good luck, guys, and Godspeed. You're really gonna need it._

The building erupted into flames as the missile found its target.

* * *

A cold breeze weaved its way throughout the flaming wreckage that had once been the headquarters of the Opposition. Smoldering rubble and charred corpses covered every inch of land as far as he could see, the overpowering stench of burned flesh permeating the night air.

Renjiro strode silently through the darkness as he surveyed the wreckage, the dancing flames casting twisted shadows across his stoic features. Wordlessly, he reached into one of the pockets of his jacket and extracted a cigarette. Stopping only to light the cigarette upon a flaming piece of debris, he removed a singed radio from the rubble and signaled to the League Airfield.

After about ten minutes, a helicopter finally arrived, and Renjiro silently climbed into the cramped cockpit, staring out into the night sky as he simply said, "Pallet Town."

* * *

Ash and Misty continued silently along the twisting forest path for the better part of an hour, each deeply immersed within their own thoughts. Ash had never felt so sickened in his life than by the day's events, and he doubted he'd be able to sleep at all that night.

"Ash, there's nothing you could have done," Misty finally said as she observed Ash's troubled visage illuminated by the starry sky. "Even if you'd still been at headquarters, you probably would have been killed, too."

"I'm starting to wonder if maybe that wouldn't be a good thing." Ash turned his gaze to the moon shining above, avoiding Misty's disbelieving look.

"What?" she asked in a shocked voice. "H-how can you even say that?"

"Maybe I'm just tired of it all. Dammit, Misty, we're just two people fighting against a force of untold power. What do you think the odds are that we're actually going to win? I mean, we've got so many people up against us that it's only a matter of time before we're—"

His thoughts stopped abruptly at the feel of Misty's lips softly pressing against his, silencing his defeatist words. "We aren't fighting this to win," she said firmly, her eyes hard-set. "We're fighting so that we when we die, at least we'll be close to freedom. They won't be able to control us anymore, and we'll finally have escaped the hell they've kept us imprisoned in for the last five years." Angry tears assaulted her aquamarine eyes, and she fiercely pulled him down by the front of his shirt so that his gaze was focused solely upon her. "And if you're going to throw your life away now that we're so goddamned close, then do it now and stop pretending that you actually care that your life may mean more than anything to someone else!" She angrily pushed him away and turned her back to him, fighting back tears once more.

Ash felt as though his heart had been ripped in half at her pained words; on the surface, it seemed as though she was simply frustrated by the fact that he was close to conceding defeat, but he knew Misty far too well to allow himself to believe that her anger could be justified so simplistically. He suddenly remembered that over the past five years, despite feeling completely alone and isolated, he had at least had his mother, Professor Oak…hell, even Gary, when he wasn't acting like an ass. But Misty had been so heartlessly manipulated by the League that they all thought her dead, and so she had been forced to live a life of solitary misery, even being used in the most inhumanly horrific way possibly by that bastard Renjiro.

And now that she had finally been reunited with someone that she loved and loved her so dearly, he was being so heartless as to consider giving up? Ash mentally kicked himself for being so inconsiderate, then hesitantly reached out one hand and placed it gently upon her shoulder. "…I'm sorry, Mist. I promise that I won't give up, not when we're so close. We're in this together, remember?" He smiled half-heartedly.

Misty turned back to him, tears still glistening in her eyes as she embraced him and rested her head against his chest. "God, it's so hard, Ash. After everything that's happened…the League, Renjiro…how can we even be sure of anything anymore?"

Ash pulled her more tightly against his chest, wanting so desperately to keep anyone from ever hurting her but knowing all-too-well that it was too late to protect her from losing that innocence that had long since been viciously ripped away. He knew that any words of consolation he managed to conjure up would fail pathetically to comfort her, but… "Misty, there is exactly one thing in this world that I know I can be sure of, and that's you."

She remained silent, but slowly her sniffling sobs began to subside, and together they remained entwined in their desperate embrace as they awaited the coming dawn.

* * *

"The total number of dead and injured continues to climb as rescue workers continue to work round-the-clock in their effort to find survivors…"

Delia Ketchum's heart continued to race as her terrified gaze remained frozen upon the television screen, watching as the news nets continued to report live from the ruins of southern Viridian City. The League's headquarters had somehow remained largely intact, but there were still reports of several League employees having been killed. "My little boy…" she whispered, oblivious to the fearful tears streaming down her cheeks.

She was momentarily torn from her panic as the doorbell rang. Delia deposited the box of tissues she had been clutching upon the sofa and moved to answer the door. "Y-yes?" she asked hesitantly, her mind frozen with fear as she observed the League's insignia upon the young man's jacket. "Oh my God, please tell me this isn't about Ash!"

He shook his head, hesitating for only a moment before saying, "I'm terribly sorry about this, ma'am, but this is something I have to do." Without even blinking, he pulled his gun from his waistband and fired.

* * *

_My opening A/N's were excessively long, so I'll keep it brief here. I literally passed out around page seven, so let this be a lesson to the few of you out there who have not already learned this: writing when stricken with the flu is a colossally bad idea. I am so assured of this chapter's suckiness that I am __**formally**__ insisting that you guys let me know if you'd really prefer a rewrite…you know, something written while I'm actually alive? I'm really too damn stubborn to admit when I should just really take a rest. My e-mail's listed in my profile, so feel free to drop me a line if you're trying to politely tell me that I should just go lay down and concentrate on writing when I'm conscious (Karen, I'm really trusting you to be frank with me here!). _

_On the plus side, I managed to finally outline the ending for this fic, so I am quite happy in that aspect. I am hoping to cause a few jaw-drops in the audience, since there are three major twists within that chapter. But that's about three/four chapters away, so let's not jump the gun._

_I think I'm officially dead now, so I am going to lay down. C&C very welcome, as well as admonitions that I really, __**really**__ should wait until I feel better to write these emotionally-destructive chapters of 'SotS'._


	6. Chapter Five: Memory

**Summary:** Five years after he becomes a Pokemon Master, Ash finds himself drowning in a sea of corruption, his dreams achieved but painfully realized. Can he survive on his own against such a powerful and shadowy adversary? Is he really as alone as he thinks?

**A/N:** Well, this chapter was an astounding headache to write, as anyone I've talked to over the past week can clearly attest, since I've pretty much spent all my free time complaining about it. But it's finally here, and I'm actually fairly satisfied with it for a change. I'm a bit wary that things will be a bit confusing, but fear not—everything will be expanded upon and clarified thoroughly in the next chapter.

Cliffhanger? What cliffhanger?

Also, there seems to be a problem that some of you guys are encountering as far as knowing when I've updated (stand up, Kaz, girl! Don't worry; it's not your fault!), since FFN is a complete bitch when it comes to 'R' rated fics. I'd be more than happy to individually e-mail those of you who are experiencing trouble; just drop me a line. Incidentally, at one point I considered dropping this fic down to a PG-13 but decided that I really didn't want to edit myself for the younger members of the audience. I probably couldn't get away with half of this stuff with a lower rating!

**Disclaimer:** see prologue

**Thanks to:** cultnirvana, Erina-chan, Rae8, KazOhki, Metal Mewtwo, Just me and myself, SulliMike23, Twtygl6, Gryphon Turboclaw, and Amber Myst. I've noticed that since crossing over into drama, I've lost a lot of readers who were really into my humor fics; inexpressible thanks to those of you who've stuck around for the ride (Karen, Riny, Rae, Kaz, Metal Mewtwo, Cyberwraith9—you guys know who you are, but here's an extra mention anyway!).

* * *

_**Fire.**_

_**Everything's on fire…my God, the entire town's up in flames! I-it's too bright…I can barely even see! God, it's too hot…too hot…**_

_**What happened? It can't have been…no, they wouldn't have…h-he wouldn't have let them!**_

_**He wouldn't…**_

_**Mom, please be okay! God, please be okay!**_

* * *

Renjiro lowered his gun and silently tucked it back into his waistband, switching on the radio and signaling the League's headquarters.

"Well, Renjiro," a slightly annoyed voice that he instantly recognized as the Leader's crackled over the small speaker, "I hope that in all this time you've been wandering around doing God knows what that you've at least carried out your mission."

"Of course," Renjiro replied nonchalantly. "Delia Ketchum has been killed, as per your orders."

"'As per our orders,' indeed…" The Leader's tone had gained an air of what almost seemed to be amusement. "Well, good work, Agent. We'll expect to see you back at headquarters immediately."

"Actually, sir, I was wondering if I could possibly have the next two weeks off?"

"The next two weeks!? Agent, need I remind you that we are currently at a turning point as far as our grand plans are concerned? Should any rebellion occur, we need every capable agent on-hand. That, unfortunately, includes you, and much as I am loath to admit it, you are at least somewhat of an asset."

Renjiro scowled at the radio, his cheeks burning with an angry blush from the insult. "Look, there's something I have to take care of, okay? I've taken care of everything; don't worry. I'll even wrap up the whole Ketchum assignment before I go."

"We want him _alive,_ Agent; if I find out that you have jeopardized our plans in any way, shape, or form, what I've done to you in the past will be child's play in comparison. Do you understand me?"

"Loud and clear," Renjiro remarked, shutting off the radio and adding, "…you psychotic bastard." Casually tossing the device aside, he inhaled deeply and stared at the woman upon the doorstep, her eyes wide with confusion and shock. He pressed one hand against the bullet now lodged in the doorframe just by her head, smiling faintly. "Mrs. Ketchum?"

"Wh—who _are_ you?" Delia managed to ask as the terror in her eyes slowly began to subside.

Renjiro didn't answer; he simply reached into one of the pockets of his jacket and extracted a plane ticket. "Here's a one-way ticket on the red-eye to Honolulu. One of my associates will escort you to the airport; another will make sure you reach your hotel safely. You really need to get out of the country, Mrs. Ketchum; as long as Ash is a wanted man, you're in danger."

"Ash is wanted?" she repeated incredulously. "But…he's never done anything to anyone! Who could possibly want to do anything to my little boy?"

Renjiro frowned a bit, not entirely comfortable with revealing the truth of the situation to Ash's mother. It was indeed within her rights to know, but he decided that it'd ultimately better to conceal the more ominous details. She might refuse to leave if she knew that Ash was currently being hunted down like a dog, and he couldn't allow any harm to come to this innocent woman. "It's really nothing to be alarmed about, Mrs. Ketchum," he finally said after a few moments of contemplation. "For now, you just need to worry about yourself. Please, there's no time to waste." He grabbed her arm and pulled her over to where the helicopter idled upon the lawn, stopping only to hoist her into the cockpit and signal to the pilot.

"Why are you trying to help me?" Delia managed to yell over the whir of the rotors now beginning to spin.

Renjiro smiled faintly, a hint of some curious pain alighting in his eyes. "Mrs. Ketchum, I despise your son more than anything else on this earth. I've wished him dead for years now, and I've even tried to kill him myself. He's taken everything from me that should have been rightfully mine, and I will never forgive him for that. But still—" He paused and shut his eyes as the image of his mother's tombstone flashed through his mind. "—I would never allow any harm to come to his mother."

His eyes locked onto Delia's for a moment, and it seemed as though they had achieved a true understanding of each other in that simple action that lasted only a few seconds. Delia smiled gently at Renjiro, then turned her attention to the sky as the helicopter flew off towards the horizon.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Renjiro, a small, inconspicuous camera continued to roll from its position tucked safely within the lofty branches of the sturdy oak tree in the front yard.

* * *

The Leader's brow remained furrowed in concentration as he reached over and switched off the surveillance monitor upon which he had just watched Renjiro disobey direct orders and not only fail to kill Ash Ketchum's mother but actually help her escape the country…_and_ the League's jurisdiction. Oh, he'd long suspected that Renjiro's loyalties might indeed be a bit divided, but such blatant disregard for an assignment was almost unheard of, especially in such high-ranking agents.

Renjiro had been official League property since the age of twelve, when his home town had been destroyed and his mother killed in a strike that he had ordered against the sleepy little hamlet. Ever since then, when Renjiro had finally accepted his fate and realized that he would spend the rest of his life working for the League, the boy had been an integral part of the organization, carrying out his missions flawlessly and mercilessly extinguishing every threat to the members of the League without hesitation. He had hunted down Ash Ketchum when they had decided that the time was right to incorporate him into the organization, kept Misty Williams under their control, and helped destroy one of the Opposition's satellite headquarters. All in all, the boy had been instrumental in helping the League incur its current position of incomparable power.

_Then again…_ The Leader's gaze drifted over to the small framed picture upon his desk, a grinning Renjiro flashing the camera the 'V' for victory sign and clutching a plush Charmander at around age eight. _It's possible that this has all been a plot from the beginning to allow the boy to work his way through our ranks, gradually earning more and more trust and granting him incredible ease in which he could infiltrate our ranks…_

He sighed and ran a hand through his thinning ebony hair streaked with silver. This would definitely cause some problems.

* * *

"…we paid sixty bucks a night for _this_?"

Ash and Misty gazed silently around the dingy, dilapidated hotel room, the faded brown carpet clashing horribly with the badly-peeling pale yellow wallpaper. The sole light in the room emanated from the bulb swinging upon a chain from the ceiling, bathing the room in a dim yellow glow. The double bed was displayed prominently in the center of the room and had a coin box on one side for reasons neither of them particularly wanted to consider.

But then, this was essentially the ideal hiding place for two fugitives from an all-powerful corporation like the League. Ash let out a heavy sigh and set down the large bag of supplies he and Misty had procured at the small town's general store as they finally ended six hours of endless walking. All that they had brought with them as they first set out upon their journey had been abandoned back in the forest when Renjiro had made that first attempt on their lives, and they'd left the Opposition with only a few rations and the clothes that they had issued them. If they were going to be on the run for much longer, they'd have to stock up on necessities.

It was when they were in the store that they had learned of the Opposition's total destruction—and Brock's horrific death. The salesclerk had announced it so breezily, blithely ignoring the shock and horror upon Ash and Misty's faces. It had been some kind of organization making trouble for the League, he'd said simply as he rung up one of the bags of rice. "Served 'em right for going 'round causing trouble for the League. They take care of us in a lot of ways, y'know? Helping the economy and all that."

Even more disturbing was the realization that Brock must have ultimately known that death was only a few moments from arriving upon his doorstep. The sad smile, the painful acceptance of what he could only speculate, the decidedly final tone held within his parting words…he had known that he was going to die, and he still stayed behind. The guilt that Ash had felt as he learned of southern Viridian City's decimation multiplied tenfold as he realized that there must have been hundreds more like Brock within the Opposition, deserters from the League who had no other choice but to join the rebellion, no matter how twisted and heartless its motives, or be hunted down. And in the end, they'd fallen to the League just the same.

The combination of guilt over the deaths of so many innocents coupled with the grim realization that the League could ultimately never be stopped were what caused his current angry and depressed mood. Misty had briefly succeeded in knocking some sense into him back on the forest path, but a few minutes later his thoughts had returned, and so had his foul mood. "This is practically highway robbery," Ash noted with a scowl, gingerly touching the stained bedspread and making a disgusted face. "I bet this place rents by the hour."

"Listen, Ash," Misty said angrily, her patience already past wearing thin, "if you've still got some idiotic delusions that being on the run is going to be some glamorous event, you'd better think again. This place is freakin' Buckingham Palace compared to some of the other places we're going to find ourselves in the coming weeks."

"How would you know?"

Misty sighed and sat down heavily in the rickety chair positioned by the scarred desk against the far wall. "About two years ago, I tried to escape."

"…what?"

She smiled sadly at him, running her fingers along the deep wounds in the desktop. "I knew what the consequences were, but I didn't even care. I swore that I'd rescue you on my way out of the city, but first I had to spend a lot of time in hiding. For about a week, I slept in alleyways, under bridges, you name it. It took me ages to even get from one part of the city to the other, since I could only spend a few minutes at a time out in the open and had to work solely at night. But I finally managed to make it to southern Viridian City."

Ash observed her sadly, knowing that he was once again learning the painful details of her time held under the League's thumb.

"They caught me when I was less than a block away. It was Renjiro that found me, actually; he even seemed like he'd been expecting me. He went through the usual motions of mocking me and telling me that I'd been incredibly stupid to even think that I could escape, but this time he…" She swallowed hard and shut her eyes against the onslaught of mental images. "He…came at me, and he held me at gunpoint while he…ripped my clothes off and…" Misty dug her nails forcefully into the desk. "All he did was tell me how much you hated me…how much you'd despise me for giving in to him, for letting him take me… He said that you'd already taken everything from him, and you couldn't have me, too."

Ash silently moved from his position next to the bed and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, resting his head atop hers.

"I can't even say what he made me do to him…I—I've tried so hard to forget…but when he finally got off, he dragged me to a place just like this and made me do it again…and again…and—" Her voice ended on choked sob as she burrowed her head in Ash's shirt and cried. "It was the first time I'd ever even _done_ anything like that…but I swear that I didn't want to, Ash; I swear!"

Ash cradled her in his arms and wordlessly carried her over to the bed, tucking her beneath the sheets and brushing away her tears with one slightly shaky hand. "Just try to get some sleep," he said softly, taking her hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly. "I promise I won't let anything happen to you ever again."

It simultaneously warmed and broke his heart to see the relief in Misty's eyes as she stared back at him; he was glad that he could bring her back from that plane of sorrow she so often found herself on, but it nearly killed him to see his powerful, feisty, fiery Misty breaking down into sobs at the slightest remembrance of things past. Renjiro had broken her into a million pieces, and it was going to take everything he had just to return her to a semblance of who she had once been.

"Ash?" Misty sat up slightly in the bed and tugged on his hand as he started to move away from the bed. "P-please…don't leave me. Not yet."

Ash smiled weakly and patted her hand. "Don't worry; I'm just going to be over there making an inventory of everything we picked up. I'll be right here in the same room."

"I know it's asking a lot, but would you just…lie here with me? Just until I fall asleep?"

Ash swallowed hard at the simple plea held within her words; she meant it innocently, of course, since she was still suffering such adverse effects from her brutal rapes at the hands of Renjiro, but his libido soared at the thought of lying there with his Misty…just the two of them…alone…in a hotel room…

He shook his head in a vain attempt to stop _that_ line of thought; there would be plenty of time for that once this whole thing was over and Misty had finally begun to recover. _If we survive,_ he added mentally, sighing inwardly. Ash cast a glance towards the supplies, then silently climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers around Misty and himself, wrapping an arm around her torso and spooning against her trembling form. "How's this?"

Misty sighed contentedly and rested her head against his chest, a slight shiver occasionally shooting through her body. "I have to remind myself," she said softly, "that I'm not always going to get hurt if I do something like this. I'm so glad that I got to see you again, Ash; I really am."

"Me too, Mist. Now just rest for a little while; no one will hurt you as long as I'm here."

He smiled tenderly as he realized that she had already fallen asleep.

* * *

"Sir, an investigation into possible treasonous activities? But why?"

The Leader frowned at the intern regarding him curiously from the doorway of his office, a stack of papers now held within his shaky hands. "It is not for you to question," he said dismissively, turning his attention back to the intelligence reports upon his desk painstakingly noting Renjiro's every move over the last twenty-four hours. "Just take those papers down to Jensen in security and have him run a check on them; do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," the young man said quickly, bowing and racing out of the room.

He smirked to himself at the frantic exit the intern had just made; it was so satisfying to see all his underlings so utterly terrified of him that they hastened to carry out his every order, no matter how mundane. That was the true definition of power in his mind.

The printer upon the heavy cherry wood desk spat out another report, a small stack of papers now sitting innocently to his right. The Leader pulled them from the printer without a second glance, then skimmed the words thoughtlessly. However, as they registered in his mind, anger and fear began to coalesce in his mind and course through his veins.

It was all beginning to make sense now—Renjiro's odd behavior, his refusal of orders, his strangely rogue attitude. The League's undisputed power over all was mere days away from occurring, and Renjiro had timed his own miniature uprising perfectly. The only information that had been lacking was what exactly had motivated their most upstanding employee to betray them, and now he understood perfectly.

"So," he began slowly, tossing the paper carelessly aside, "the boy visited his mother's grave last night, did he?" A deep scowl soon etched its way onto his features. "I'm surprised he even knew the way back."

"Sir!"

The Leader's scowl remained in place as he pressed a button upon the speakerphone and in a tight, angry voice, asked, "What is it, Jensen? Do you actually have something new information, or are you once again intent upon proving your uselessness to me?"

"Our surveillance reports that Agent Nanahara has again returned to the ruins of Seijaku Town. Sir, do you know why he may be spending so much time at such an inconsequential place?"

The Leader remained silent for a moment, staring at the blood-red roses floating inside the asymmetrical glass vase upon his desk. He glanced briefly at the picture of a young Renjiro upon his desk, then said, "I have no idea."

* * *

The air was deadly calm as Renjiro walked silently along the cracked sidewalk, weeds sprouting between the cracks and choking the concrete. To both sides of him lay scorched heaps of aluminum and wood—what had long ago been houses. The stench of charred flesh still seemed to hang in the air, but he knew quite well that it was only his mind refusing to allow him release from those hated, unrelenting memories. The landscape had never recovered from it; he noted the scorched, leafless trees and charred-black ground with a heavy sadness. No birds sang, nor did any crickets chirp in the calm night; the land was eerily silent, with not even the whisper of a breeze.

It hadn't always been like this, of course; he could remember when there would have been children laughing and car horns honking and music playing…but that only reminded him of how, in one horrific instant, it had all been wrenched away. Renjiro let out a heavy sigh as he remembered that ten years had passed since that day, when his life as he knew it had ended.

"Renjiro, you bastard."

His blood ran cold as the Leader's unmistakably angry voice sounded from his pocket. Shit, he'd left the radio on. Against his better judgment, he growled and extracted the radio, snarling, "What do you want _now_!?"

"Just what do you think you're doing in Seijaku Town? You know that that area is strictly forbidden to you. After all, we wouldn't want any…unpleasant memories to surface and haunt our dear, sensitive little Renjiro, now would we?"

Renjiro had begun to shake uncontrollably from rage and hatred, but he still managed to retain his composure enough to growl, "Like you honestly give a fucking damn about what happens to me. You're the one who did this in the first place, just because you wanted to ensure your goddamn position! Was it worth it? Were two thousand lives worth your fucking _job_?"

He let out an angry sob and threw the radio as far from him as possible, but not before he heard the Leader respond, "They were of no importance."

* * *

_Twelve-year-old Renjiro Nanahara coughed violently and fell to his knees against the scorched earth. The overpowering stench of charred flesh drifted through the air as the tremendous blaze continued to consume the small town, great plumes of smoke silently ascending towards the night sky. Flames licked at the young boy's hands as he crawled desperately back towards the remains of his home. _

_"Mom!" he called in a panicked tone, coughing again as his lungs filled with thick smoke. "Mom, are you okay!?"_

_She'd been in the garden when it hit. Just moments earlier they'd been carefully tending to the flower beds, a single blood-red rose held daintily in his mother's hands. "See this rose, Renjiro-kun?" she'd said softly, gently touching the wide petals blossomed atop the slender green stem. "It's still blooming, but it's late; it's stayed in the garden for too long." Indeed, the petals had opened much too wide, the breadth nearly twice that of a normal rose in full bloom. "It's…quite beautiful when it's like this…but it only means that it's about to die." She smiled at her son—a strangely sad smile that broke his heart in two—and pressed the flower into his hands, kissing him softly on the cheek. "It's weary; being held within the garden has exposed it to the perils of nature and the severity of life, and now it just wants to be at peace. Protect it, Renjiro, and always think of me when you see it."_

_Renjiro just stared at her, then observed the rose in his hands with a sort of wonderment. There had been tremendously deep meaning in her words, he was sure…but for the life of him, he couldn't comprehend her message._

_His mother finally smiled genuinely after a moment and, casting a wary glance at the sky, said, "I know; how about we play a game of 'Hide and Go Seek'?"_

_"Aw, Mom, I'm too old for that."_

_"Just…humor your mother, dear," she said, a tremor creeping into her voice. "You can hide in the forest, and I'll try to find you in a moment." _

_Renjiro frowned a bit at the strange aura his mother seemed to be projecting but shook off the odd feeling in the back of his mind. If playing such a childish game was what he needed to do to return her to her old cheerful self, then so be it. It could be a lot worse, after all. "Okay; I'm gonna go find a really good hiding place. See ya in a bit, Mom!" He took off running towards the forest._

_She watched him go, the smile she had worn now borne of serenity rather than joy. "Ten…nine…eight…seven…"_

_The whir of a jet's engines sounded in the distance._

_"…six…five…four…"_

_The fighter appeared over the horizon._

_"…three…two…"_

_It dropped its ominous cargo and flew quickly into the distance._

_"…one."_

_The town erupted into flames._

* * *

"Sir, are we all set for Phase Two of the plan?"

The Leader looked up from the document he had been reading, casting an annoyed glance at the speakerphone upon his desk. "What was Phase Two again, Jensen?"

"Hmm…" The sound of papers being shuffled filtered through the speaker. "Ah, yes, here we go—Project Waterflower. It's the one where—"

"I know very well what it is," the Leader snapped. "But no, I think it best to hold off on any further strikes until Renjiro has recovered from this latest lapse in stability."

"…sir?"

"Trust me," he said with a knowing grin, striking a match upon the framed picture's surface and lighting a cigar. "This is one he won't want to miss."

* * *

_Renjiro finally abandoned his careful crawl and broke into an all-out run, ignoring the fire grabbing at his clothes. It'd taken forever to escape from the forest, dodging falling trees and fiery foliage, but now he had nearly made it back to the house. __**Please be okay…God, please be okay…**_

_His breath caught in his throat as his gaze swept across the charred landscape, countless houses being devoured by flames and smoke thick in the air. Renjiro strained his ears in a desperate attempt to catch the sound of a cry from anyone who may have survived, but the land was eerily silent; the only sounds were the crackling flames and the cold breeze drifting through the burning wreckage._

_The forest hadn't been as heavily damaged as the rest of the area; it must have hit directly in the center of town. Renjiro felt the bile rise to his throat as he realized that his mother must have known about this all along; that was why she had sent him into the forest. Unbeknownst to him, that was the only place he'd be even remotely safe from the bomb's detonation._

_The mansion had nearly been leveled by the explosion, he noted dazedly as he edged past the twisted metal that had once been the front gates. There was no hope for anyone inside, so that must mean…_

_"Mom!" _

_Renjiro fell to his knees, completely shell-shocked. There was his mother; she was still by the rose garden…_

_Well, __**part**__ of her, anyway._

_He couldn't even cry; deep within his mind, he registered the agony, the massacre, the horrific reality of the situation…but for now all he could do was stare at the portion of his mother's body that still remained in the position where he had last seen her smiling visage._

_It was nearly dawn when Renjiro heard business-like footsteps sounding along the still-smoldering asphalt that had served as the driveway. He turned his ice-blue eyes away from the scene upon which they had been fixated for hours and felt his blood begin to boil as he saw…__**HIM**__ standing there, that irrepressibly cocky smirk upon his face. "Y-you didn't…" Renjiro distantly heard himself saying in a shocked voice. "You __**couldn't**__ have! Oh my God, the __**League**__ did this, didn't they!? You did this to them!" He angrily pounded his fists into the dirt, the tears that he had managed to stave off now flowing freely as his sobs resounded through the still air._

_The man simply shrugged, grabbing Renjiro's hand and pulling him towards the helicopter waiting across the yard. "I'm surprised you're even still alive, Renjiro," he said, staring straight ahead. "That bitch of a mother of yours must have saved you somehow. Always knew she'd end up causing trouble. After all, she's the one who refused to hand you over to us in the first place." He let out a short, humorless laugh. "As if that'd stop us."_

_"You've slaughtered an entire town! How could you do this!?"_

_"We needed to retrieve the heir to the League," he informed him simply, lifting the young boy into the helicopter's cockpit and then climbing in himself. "You are aware that I have recently become the official Leader of the League, Renjiro? Well, due to some…unrest within the Council, it was put forth that the Leader must prove to the other members that humanness and empathy do not hinder him or cloud his judgment in any way. I believe that I have effectively removed all doubt from within those dissenters' minds." He signaled the pilot to begin take-off._

_Renjiro felt his heart clench painfully in his chest at the realization that his former life had just been wrenched away from him. The League had been aggressively attempting to take him for years now, but his mother had begged, borrowed, and stolen in order to keep him safe. It had become progressively harder as he grew older, especially once he turned ten and registered for his Trainer's License. For the past two years, it had been absolute hell for his mother, but he hadn't realized just how close he was to losing everything he held dear to him._

_"Renjiro, my boy," the man said in a determined voice, a crazed, dangerous glint in his hard-set eyes, "I've waited two long years for this moment, and now that that miserable bitch is finally dead, it's come to pass. As of this moment, you are official League property. Not only that, but you are the heir to the League should any harm befall me. And one day, Renjiro, you will be crowned an official Pokemon Master and command the highest respect of any within our ranks! Welcome to the beginning of your new life, my son."_

_Renjiro fought back tears as one hand drifted down to press against his jeans pocket, feeling the indentation of the dying rose tucked within it. And as he mournfully watched the fiery remains of his hometown grow smaller and smaller as the helicopter flew towards the horizon, the innocent Renjiro Nanahara of years past ceased to be._

* * *

The Leader stroked his chin thoughtfully as he stared at the picture on his desk, smirking at the cheerful expression upon the young Renjiro's face. "Well, my boy, it looks like Ash really has achieved everything that should have been yours, hasn't he?" he asked mockingly. "The title of Pokemon Master, the girl of your dreams, a loving mother, the adoration of millions, my respect…everything in this world that meant anything to you now is his to cherish."

He silently pressed a button upon the speakerphone and leaned back in his chair.

"Of course, there is a positive side to such a scenario."

* * *

Ash continued to hold Misty tightly in his arms as the news droned on from the small, snowy TV bolted to the wall in the dingy hotel room. The main story was, of course, the complete and utter decimation of southern Viridian City, but there were a few minor news items about a stabbing, an alleged kidnapping, and a fraudulent psychic scamming some local woman out of 40,000. He rarely even watched the news, knowing full well that most of it was engineered by the League to keep the citizens held within a healthy fear, and he only had so much tolerance for the organization's corrupt activities.

Tonight, though, he hoped that he'd at least be able to catch some more information about the destruction of the Opposition, though the news nets would know nothing of the organization's true identity. So far, though, there'd been no mention, which he found strange.

"Mm…"

Ash glanced down at the girl in his arms to see Misty sleepily turning over to face him, a groggy smile illuminating her delicate features. "Hey," she slurred slightly, resting her head against his shoulder and staring up at him.

"Hey, you," he said gently, kissing her forehead. "Did getting some sleep make you feel better?"

"Yeah," Misty replied with a sigh, turning her attention to the TV. "Sometimes my mind just works overtime, and I end up reliving all of those horrible memories." She began placing feather-light kisses upon his chest, absently noting, "I really think being so close to you while I was asleep helped a lot."

Ash smiled warmly at her words, feelingly rather proud at being able to banish Misty's internal demons…at least for a few hours. "We should do it more often."

"Fine by me," she replied, snuggling up against him and sighing contentedly. If she closed her eyes and ignored their decidedly low-class surroundings, the fact that the League could at any moment discover their hiding place and have them gunned down in their sleep, and the inherent threat of Renjiro once again finding them, she could almost pretend like she and Ash were a normal couple, curled up together after a night of tender lovemaking. It was enough to make her girlish fantasies from her youth resurface, and she was once again that skinny, bow-legged girl with a powerful crush on a scruffy, dense young trainer from Pallet Town…if only for a moment.

It was nearly perfect…until the seemingly casual words of the news anchor registered in their minds and seemed to stop their hearts in mid-beat.

"We've just received an interesting brief from our newsroom; it appears that Ash Ketchum, one of the most respected individuals in recent history and the current Pokemon Master, has just found by police to be the culprit in the disastrous Viridian City bombings."

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

_Oh, I am evil. Three cliffhangers in a row, and it's not looking good for the next one either. Mwah ha ha. Actually, this is really 'part one' of this little story arc, but it ended up being far too long for one chapter; the flip side of everything, as well as clarification of more of Renjiro's backstory, his motives, and what drove him to despise Ash will show up in part seven. It's almost a shame that I won't have that one done for another week… (dodges rotten fruit being pelted at her)_

_Reviews greatly appreciated! (is hit by a rogue cantaloupe and falls)  
_


	7. Chapter Six: Understanding

**A/N:** Wow, this chapter was fun to write. Majorly fun, in fact. This may be due in part to the fact that it didn't take half as long as it usually does for me to churn out another chapter, which is either a sign that I'm getting better at this or a really bad omen for this chapter. I'd hope for the former.

Also, Silent Sigh noted in his review, "It also seems somewhat odd that he would hold destroying Ash at premium priority compared to trying to avenge the atrocities his father performed, perhaps he has a little thinking to do..." I am so glad that he brought that up, since all of you are supposed to be thinking the exact same thing. The answer is either a) his motives will be explained in this chapter, or b) Renjiro is a loon. Choose accordingly.

I did not necessarily want it to turn out this way, but I should probably note that there is a MAJOR mush warning for this chapter. We're talking mad squishies, though angst is included (it's a package deal in this fic). I'm hereby praying that I didn't screw it up.

**Disclaimer:** see prologue

**Thanks to:** cultnirvana, KazOhki, Erina-chan, Ash and Misty forever, x Angel of the Night x, Metal Mewtwo, Silent Sigh, Just me and myself, Rae8, and Childsnake.

**Special Chapter Dedication!:** This chapter is for Kaz (KazOhki). Because she is God. (And because anyone who has not yet read 'Kajikamu' is a worthless toad. I don't even care if you close this window right now and go read it; just get it read. Got it? And leave her a very, very nice review, because it makes her happy.)

* * *

_"So, Renjiro, the big tournament at the Indigo Plateau is coming up, isn't it?"_

_Thirteen-year-old Renjiro Nanahara swallowed nervously under the penetrating gaze of his father, those ice-blue eyes forever searching for any slight weakness that his son may grant him the opportunity to prey upon. It was always like this, really; ever since he'd become the official 'heir' to the League—_

_and his life as he knew it had ended in one hellish instant—he'd been forced to tread cautiously around his own father, for he knew that his very life often depended upon the correct answer to his queries. "Y-yes, sir." _

_The Leader said nothing, narrowing his eyes at the slightly trembling boy standing before him in the harsh light of the office's fluorescent bulbs. "And you're prepared, of course," he said flatly, fingering the sharp letter opener upon his desk absently._

_"Yes, sir. I've done everything I can to make sure that my Pokemon are in the best possible condition."_

_The Leader's gaze never wavered. "And?"_

_"…and I've studied up on strategy. Y-you told me that I should look for an enemy's weakness and 'go for the jugular', remember?"_

_"Indeed," he responded, a hint of amusement mingling with the underlying sense of malice in his tone. "Renjiro my boy, you are of the utmost importance to me, do you understand that? You are my only son, and as such you are heir to all the power and glory that is mine. And yet you continue to resist me."_

_Renjiro felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach; he knew where this was going…_

_"Now," the Leader said simply as he pulled open one of the heavy drawers of his desk. "One of my associates has reported to me that you have often been neglecting your studies and spending more time on such frivolous activities as leisure reading and playing outdoors. Is this correct?"_

_"Y-y-yes, sir, b-but there's a good reason…"_

_"I did not permit you to speak!" he roared back, flinging the deadly sharp letter opener at the frightened boy and grazing his forehead. He ignored Renjiro's startled cry and extracted the pistol kept within his desk, nestled between a small pack of paper clips and a picture of a smiling man with his wife and son. "Now—" The Leader smiled viciously as he pulled back the hammer and pointed the gun at Renjiro. "—what are you never going to do again, boy?"_

_Renjiro shakily pressed one hand against his bloodied forehead, nearly fainting at the small pool of red liquid that gathered in his palm. He had been trying so desperately for the past year to go against his father in such inconsequential ways—such as not doing a specifically-ordered homework assignment—but now he was cursing himself mentally for being so pugnacious as to assume that he could resist such power in any real way. As if they would allow such insubordination to go unpunished. _

_"You'd better answer me, boy," the Leader said dangerously, tightening his finger on the trigger. "Because you'll soon learn that __**everything**__ is expendable—including you."_

_"I-I'll never disobey you again, sir!"_

_Was that his voice? That frightened, submissive, overly-eager squeak was actually coming from __**him**__? In the past year Renjiro had sworn to himself never to fully submit to his father's will, even on pain of death. He owed that much to the memory of his mother, to the departed souls of those who had been mercilessly slaughtered on that terrible day in Seijaku Town. But the punishments had become more frequent and more severe, and he soon found himself eyeing longingly the safety that existed within simply giving into the seemingly comfortable lifestyle that would accompany ceasing his resistance. _

_The time was now at hand. __**Please forgive me, Mom,**__ Renjiro thought helplessly as he bowed deeply in respect to the man still glaring maliciously at him. __**But I don't want to die.**_

_The Leader smirked at his son and placed the gun upon the desk. "Well, my boy, it seems like you've finally learned your lesson." He cracked his knuckles and wordlessly struck Renjiro across the face, barely even flinching. "But I'm going to make sure that you continue to make the proper correlation between betrayal and the consequences resulting from it." _

_And as the blows continued to rain down upon him, Renjiro felt the innocence of his childhood slip further and further away._

* * *

Renjiro silently leaned back in the task chair at the small computer terminal, occasionally casting a glance over his shoulder to ensure that the Pallet Town Hall of Records' clerk was still happily oblivious to his actions. It was a good sign that Ash's birth certificate hadn't already been erased from the database; it meant that the League had decided to keep him in existence, at least for a little while longer.

They _had_, however, made quite a few interesting alterations as to certain incidents in his past, obviously attempting to further sully his reputation in an attempt to keep the public believing that it was he who had instigated the Viridian City bombings. A speeding ticket from several years earlier had magically transformed into a summons for possession of drug paraphernalia, his membership with the United Trainers' Alliance had somehow been mutated into mafia connections, and a forged police report provided in great detail ways in which Ash Ketchum may have been instrumental into funneling League profits to radical terrorist groups who may or may not have been directly connected to certain mysterious bombings that had occurred over the years.

The League had gone to great lengths to ensure that Ash's reputation was completely destroyed, Renjiro noted with a slightly disturbed frown as he scrolled past another report stating Ash's supposed rendezvous with several area prostitutes. And these 'official reports' were sure to slowly leak through the news nets as the public became more and more suspicious of the man who had once been their hero. It was almost terrifying how methodical and well-organized the League's destruction of a human being could be.

"You've gotta give 'em credit for being _smart_ bastards," Renjiro muttered to himself as the TV within the facility now aired a special news clip outlining Ash's misdeeds over the past five years.

But still, something wasn't quite right. "This part of the plan wasn't even supposed to be put into action until next month," Renjiro noted with a troubled frown as he absently scrolled through a few more documents. True, quite a few things hadn't gone according to plan, and the League had made more than a few alterations to their original scheme; for instance, Ash and Misty weren't even supposed to be _alive_ at this point. Misty was to have taken down Ash, and then Renjiro would have killed her in turn. Investigations would begin as to Ash's 'mysterious' murder, and the League would provide some forged documents alleging that some kind of underground crime ring had conspired to murder their most upstanding employee. Of course, this is when information about the Opposition would undoubtedly come in handy, and Renjiro was certain that the antagonistic organization would be kept alive and well—if only to further the League's own nefarious purposes.

And then things would continue upon the course that they were presently taking; the citizens of Viridian City and the nearby suburbs would thusly be thrown into a panic, wondering if they could be in danger. Everything was now going according to plan, but with some major adjustments. For starters, the Opposition had been destroyed; Ash was now their little scapegoat. And could their objective have also shifted? Had the League detracted from their original purpose?

A stark line of worry creased into Renjiro's forehead as fear began to chill his blood. In the past, he had _always_ been informed of the slightest change to any of the League's master schemes, owing much to the fact that he was both the Leader's son and their highest-ranking assassin. But now…now he had been assigned to such minor tasks as murdering Ash's mother or making sure Misty carried out her assassination of Ash.

_Could it be?_ Renjiro thought worriedly, pressing a hand against the tattooed flesh of his left shoulder. _Could it be that…they know what my true purposes are?_

* * *

_"We've just received an interesting brief from our newsroom; it appears that Ash Ketchum, one of the most respected individuals in recent history and the current Pokemon Master, has just found by police to be the culprit in the disastrous Viridian City bombings."_

Ash distractedly worked the cheap hotel-provided soap into a lather, his mind continually drifting back to that horrible newscast in which he and Misty had discovered that he was now considered the perpetrator of the murders of all those innocents in southern Viridian City. Those same people that he had sought to protect, that he had wept for when he learned of their blood spilled in the name of evil masquerading as good…those same people were now thirsting for his blood as retribution for his apparent misdeeds.

The Leader himself had appeared at a press conference that day. "I cannot even begin to express how thoroughly disgusted and appalled the League is at the discovery that one of our own employees—indeed, we are ashamed to admit, one of our most prestigious members—is guilty of such a heartless and atrocious crime," he had said in that same virtuous, determined voice that had once convinced Ash of the League's true intentions, back when he had first been inducted into their ranks. But that innocence and naivety was a thousand years and a million miles away now, and he scowled angrily at gullibility of the people to believe so strongly such supposedly 'true' intentions.

"Ash Ketchum is now undoubtedly in hiding," the Leader had continued. "But I vow that we at the League will go to whatever lengths necessary in order to capture this young subversive and bring him to justice. Such a person is an absolute abomination, a miserable wretch whose transgressions are punishable only by death."

Ash shut his eyes tightly against the image of the citizens of Viridian City cheering loudly and chanting for his death. He hadn't been the most upstanding of citizens over the last five years, that was true, but did he honestly deserve to have his life wrenched from him in yet another facet of the League's miserable little scheme?

It was then that he remembered just what he had been forced to do as a Pokemon Master. Murders of dignitaries who opposed the League—six of them, he believed. Dealing in arms and weaponry. Procuring illegal substances. Being forced to sit and watch as the Leader and his fellow Council members cavorted with groups of young, terrified women and viciously raped them, often at gunpoint.

Ash pressed one shaky hand against his heart, which had now begun to pound furiously in his chest. It was true; goddamit, it was _true_! Everything that the Leader had said about him was right! He _was_ a wretch, a bastard, an _abomination_! By his hand men with loving families and kind smiles had become drenched in their own blood, League assassins had been able to arm themselves with high-powered rifles and fire randomly at schoolchildren within the city, and desperate women with pleading eyes had been used in the most horrific way possible and thrown away as so much refuse. And he hadn't done a damn thing to stop them for fear of retribution against himself or his mother.

Damn it, his mother! Where was she now? Was she even still alive? He'd been so worried about saving his own ass that he hadn't even made sure she was safe. She could've been struck down days ago by the League's own ruthless soldiers, and he wouldn't even know; maybe he'd never know.

Ash fell to his knees within the small shower stall and attempted to dig his nails into the smooth tile of the floor. He'd never felt self-loathing of such intensity, this feeling that someone like him probably deserved to die and that it'd probably just be better if the League caught up with him and sent him straight to Hell. "God, why am I even still alive!?" he cried out bitterly, ignoring the tears now streaming down his cheeks.

"Ash? Honey, are you okay?"

_Misty…_

She was standing in the doorway, peering worriedly into the room and carrying a fluffy white towel. Her eyes were weary and slightly dim but still held that same spark that had first drawn him to her, and her pale skin was still marred by the cuts and bruises afflicted upon her by Renjiro and the harshness of their lives on the run from the League, but the wounds had slowly begun to heal. "You're taking an awfully long time in the shower," she said in a soft, concerned voice, pulling open the frosted glass door.

_Misty…dammit, Misty, get away from me! I—I'm not even worth it! Don't you see, I'm not worth dying for!_

Misty's features contorted into a worried frown as she shut off the shower and pulled Ash's soaking wet, trembling form into her arms, ignoring the water quickly saturating her clothes. Even through the rush of water she had seen his tears, her heart clenching painfully at the thought of Ash in a state of anguish. "Shh, it's okay," she whispered soothingly, kissing his forehead and rubbing his back comfortingly. "Is this about that newscast?"

He couldn't find his voice; it seemed as though everything had left him except the horrible, startling revelation that everything the Leader had accused him of was, in some way, completely true. And the realization that it was only in death that he could repay the world for the evil he had committed.

"You did what you had to do," Misty whispered, stroking his hair soothingly and embracing him more tightly. "I've done unspeakable things, too, and I'm still alive, still carrying on." She sighed and shut her eyes against the memories. "Ash, we're both condemned. The things we've done have pretty much guaranteed us an eternity of damnation. But at the very least, we can try to stop those bastards from putting anyone else through what we had to endure." She pressed a kiss to his shoulder and nuzzled him gently. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Ash?"

Somehow, Ash could feel a presence through the pain of his memories. It was warm, comforting…it was almost like a light through the darkness. He could feel a pair of arms lovingly embracing him, hear soothing words being whispered…

"I know that it's hard," Misty continued quietly. "I can't even tell you how many times I've been in exactly the same position you're in now. But I never had anyone to hold me, to tell me that everything would be all right…Ash, no matter what happens, I swear that I'll be right here by your side. I don't care what you've done in the past; you'll always be my Ash."

The hazy light had become even stronger; it was almost overwhelming his anguish and melting away the pain that had become caked around his heart over five years of suffering. _Misty…_

"And I love you."

"Misty..." he managed to choke out, opening his eyes and staring up at the red-haired beauty still cradling him gently in her arms as they sat in a wet heap upon the bathroom floor. "God, Misty the things I've done…"

"Don't worry," she whispered to him, kissing his forehead and pressing her cheek against his. "I'll always be here for you." She gently captured his lips with hers.

It was almost like a revelation, like some kind of divine intervention. One moment he had felt as though he was dying from the sheer agony of realizing the terrible severity of his past deeds, and the next he was being held by someone who vowed to stay by him in spite of everything. Ash's mind slowly became clear, and all that remained was the reality of the situation. He was being held by the love of his life, kissing her gently…

…and God, he was still completely naked!

A deep blush shot immediately to Ash's cheeks as he realized their position. "Um…uh…ah…Misty, we're, uh—" His mind had apparently once again been robbed of all coherent thought, though he was pretty sure that this time it was due to the fact that most of his blood was now concentrated in _another_ area.

Misty just smiled a little and handed him the towel she had brought with her into the bathroom. "I'm glad you're back to normal," she said with a short laugh, kissing him on the cheek and exiting the room.

Ash just stared after her for a long moment, finally climbing to his feet and wrapping the towel around his waist. _Thank you, Misty…for everything._

* * *

"Where to, Mistah?"

Renjiro frowned absently at the taxi driver and simply said, "Western Viridian City."

"Ooh, rough area. You'd better watch yourself, pal."

Renjiro didn't answer but continued to watch the brilliance of the sun setting over Pallet Town as the landscape rushed by, the rolling hills and expansive fields awash in golden hues. It was an absolutely gorgeous scene, almost reminiscent of some bygone days of a simpler time, when the world was still kind and good.

It made Renjiro sick.

His first visit to Pallet Town had been disgustingly peaceful, with cheerful citizens and friendly children greeting him on the street. This little idyll was all the more indicative of the privileged life Ash Ketchum had led.

_One more thing,_ Renjiro thought angrily, clenching his fists, _that he has that I've lost._

* * *

_"Y-you wanted to see me, sirs?"_

_Renjiro stood nervously before the shadowy members of the Council seated before him at the long marble table within the dimly-lit hall. This was the first time that he had officially appeared before them; oh, sure, he'd met them all individually before, as they were all important figures within the League, but he'd never been called upon to meet with the Council privately. And he knew exactly why they had summoned him now._

_"Renjiro, you pitiful fool!" the Leader said harshly, slamming his fist down upon the table and momentarily startling his comrades. "We have spent over a year putting you through intense training procedures and countless hours of strategic planning, not to mention genetically enhancing your Pokemon so that victory would be all but guaranteed, and __**this**__ is the result!? Elimination in the __**first round**__ at the Indigo Plateau!?" _

_Renjiro winced and felt his body involuntarily begin to shake. In his experiences with the League, every failure—whether his fault or not—was met with harsh blows and the occasional knife wound. But the heir to the League actually failing to place at Indigo Plateau—and not even making it to the second round, for that matter? Renjiro braced himself for the inevitable gunshot; there would be no cheating death this time around._

_But the pain did not come. After several moments of waiting for death to strike him down, Renjiro slowly opened his eyes and saw the Council members regarding him curiously. "Wh-what are you waiting for?" he asked, attempting to sound courageous but undermined by the tremor in his voice. "A-aren't you going to kill me for failing you?"_

_The Leader let out a condescending laugh that was echoed by the other members. "My dear boy," he said in the same patronizing tone that had become so familiar to Renjiro over the past year, "you are undoubtedly one of the worst Pokemon trainers that we have ever witnessed. Despite hours of training and specialized courses, you have never improved upon your decidedly weak skills. Some people are just not meant to be trainers, I suppose; you, Renjiro, are most certainly one of them."_

_"But I can get better!" he cried somewhat desperately, quickly deducting that the League was about to suspend his training. It was the last thing he had left in this hellish world of his, not to mention the dream he had held since he first became a trainer three years earlier. _

_"I somehow doubt that, Renjiro. Your days as a trainer have come to an end."_

_"No! You can't!"_

_The Leader smiled strangely at the desperation in his son's tone. "Why, Renjiro?" he asked, a hint of amusement seeping into his voice. "Why is training so important to you?"_

_Renjiro sensed the malice in his father's voice and knew full well that he was being soundly mocked but replied anyway. "It's the most important thing to me in the world! Training is—"_

_"—all you have left," the Leader finished, folding his arms across his chest and smirking patronizingly at his son. "I am well aware of that fact, boy; you have nothing left in this world since I laid waste to what was once our hometown a year ago, do you? Of course, you once had a loving mother, friends, school…you were a normal child, weren't you?" _

_Renjiro fought back the tears that threatened to fall at the painful reminder of everything that he had lost._

_"It took only a second, didn't it? You lost everything you had in this world in that one instant…except the idea that, as my son and the heir to the League, you were guaranteed the position of Pokemon Master when you came of age. That's what's kept you going all this time, hasn't it? The idea that you could hide your pain behind the League's prestige?" The Leader laughed mockingly and pressed a button upon a small console to his right. "Unfortunately for you, my boy, things have changed considerably. You are no longer the next Pokemon Master."_

_Renjiro watched in horror as a large screen on the opposite side of the room now showed a video of a young trainer just about his age battling virtuously through the Indigo Plateau and the Orange Islands, the reel spliced with a few shots of the boy caring for his Pokemon and smiling at the camera. __**This boy,**__ he thought numbly, __**is going to have everything I was promised?**_

_"His name," the Leader said to Renjiro, switching off the video, "is Ash Ketchum, from Pallet Town in Kanto."_

_**Ash Ketchum?**__ Renjiro's mind froze at the name. He vaguely remembered it from a time, long, long ago, when he had just been a toddler, maybe three years old, but what was the significance of…_

_Renjiro's breath caught in his throat as he turned his horrified gaze back to his father. "No!" he shouted in a disbelieving voice. "Not him! No, father, you __**can't**__ give the only thing I have to him!" _

_The Leader continued to smile at the pain in his young son's eyes. "I'm glad that you remember, Renjiro," he said simply. "It wouldn't be nearly as rewarding a situation had you not." _

_"But, father," Renjiro said in a choked voice as he watched his dreams disappear before his very eyes. "Y-you __**promised...**"_

_The Leader simply extracted a gun from within the folds of his robe and fired a shot into his son's arm. As Renjiro cried out from the pain of the wound and pressed a hand to the smoldering flesh, he smiled and said, "You should really get used to disappointments, boy."_

* * *

"Mr. Nanahara? Mr. Nanahara! Sir!"

The Leader reclined in the cushy office chair as his gaze swept across the crowded room, scores of reporters clamoring for his attention at this newly-announced press conference. "Now, ladies and gentlemen," he said in that same patient, reassuring voice that had swayed so many to place their trust in him, "I assure you that the League is doing absolutely everything in its power to find and capture Ash Ketchum. There is no cause for…_immediate_ alarm."

He had to suppress a smirk at the worried murmurs rising through the crowd at that. "But I would like to warn the public," he said seriously, "that new documents have surfaced linking Ash Ketchum with a radical terrorist group calling themselves 'the Opposition'. The people involved with this group are godless, malevolent, and wholly evil, and they have no true aim other than to destroy the upstanding and moral League."

"Mr. Nanahara," one reporter began, rising from his seat and extending the microphone attached to his small tape recorder, "are you saying that there is an immediate threat against the League, as dictated by this group—'the Opposition', I believe you said?"

"Indeed," the Leader responded. "I am sure that you are all aware of how instrumental the League has been in protecting the safety and well-being of the citizens of Viridian City, not to mention the entire nation. The individuals within the Opposition gave aid and comfort to Ash Ketchum, who we now know to be a criminal of the most despicable kind. It is thus they who indirectly helped to destroy the southern part of Viridian City." His voice lowered into a more comforting tone. "Now, I must say to the traumatized citizens of Viridian City that we will not let this tragedy go unpunished. We at the League will not stop until the perpetrators have been apprehended and brought to justice.

"And to the citizens of the world over, I must now say that we have reached a turning point. Until now, there have been those who regarded the League neither with kindness nor ill will; however, recent events have dictated that there must now be no middle ground. A war is about to erupt between the forces of good and evil, and neutrality is not an option. So, good citizens, you must ask yourselves: are you with us, or are you with the terrorists?"

A loud cheer sounded throughout the room as the members of the press climbed to their feet and began to applaud wildly. Several scribbled furiously in notepads, and the Leader was certain that in a few hours a rallying cry would rise up throughout Kanto as the citizens, still in shock from the horror of the Viridian City bombings, blindly rushed to support the League's cause. It was so comforting to see that such gullibility still existed in the world. _Such trusting little sheep_, the Leader thought with a smile as he was led out of the room by his entourage.

* * *

That night, Ash lay motionless in the narrow bed, his eyes open and fixated upon a water stain on the ceiling. Misty was curled up against his side, one arm draped across his chest, and normally he would have been comforted and warmed by her presence. But now he could only think of the anguish and pain he had felt earlier as he realized that he had been instrumental in bringing about countless individuals' suffering.

Misty had managed to stave it off for a bit, and he was eternally grateful for the loving acceptance that emanated from her. However, she could only ease his pain temporarily, and the guilt and self-loathing had returned with a vengeance.

And she noticed. Misty tilted her head up and regarded him strangely, a questioning look held within her eyes. "Hey, why aren't you trying to get some sleep? We've got to spend some time strategizing tomorrow."

"Does it even matter?" Ash responded irritably, flipping over onto his side and effectively turning his back to her. "I'm going to be dead soon anyway now that the League's effectively hunting me down. They've even got the public supporting 'em."

Misty remained silent for a moment, then placed one hand tentatively upon his shoulder. "Ash? Have you forgotten?"

"Forgotten what?" Ash said grumpily, crossing his arms across his chest and pouting like the petulant child he often was.

"I'm dead."

A chill ran up his spine at the simplicity of her statement, and he flipped back over to stare at her with wide, frightened eyes.

Misty laughed softly and ruffled his hair. "Not _literally_, you idiot, but I was supposedly killed five years ago. As far as the world's concerned, I'm dead and buried. There's a tombstone in the Cerulean City graveyard with my name on it. It's a really horrible feeling, knowing that you don't even exist to more than a small handful of people." She snuggled against his chest. "You're right; there's a good chance that we won't survive. But there's also a chance that we _will_. If you just look at the negative side of everything, you'll just be more convinced that you're doomed. I learned that the hard way. But for now, why don't we just enjoy the time that we _do_ have and not worry about death until it's here?"

Ash regarded Misty quizzically, hardly believing that the smiling, optimistic Misty curled up next to him was the same person as the fatalistic, depressed, broken woman who had saved him from the League's assassin days ago and been reduced to tears at the slightest mention of her past. "Misty?"

"Hm?"

"Why are you suddenly so…bright? And almost…cheerful?"

"I don't know," she responded sleepily, nuzzling his chest. "You always really screw with my emotions."

Ash could have cried with relief at the realization that somehow, the Misty he had fallen in love with all those years ago had returned—with an attitude, yes, but that was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. She had saved him—physically, mentally, and emotionally—from everything that had threatened to consume him, she had stood by him no matter what danger lay ahead, and she had vowed to die with him if need be.

_So this is that 'undying, all-encompassing love' thing I've heard so much about…_ he thought with a small smile, wrapping his arms around her. _God, Misty, I don't know where I'd be without you…_

And then a thought occurred to him. It was so completely ridiculous, so inconceivable that Ash couldn't even believe he was considering it. _We're going to die together,_ he reminded himself with a frown. _There's no way in hell that you could ever…_

_Oh, shut up,_ he thought to the negativity of his subconscious mind. _Yeah, we're probably not going to survive this, but…_ He rested his chin against the top of Misty's head. _…if we do, I know that I want to… _"Misty?"

"Mm…" she mumbled sleepily, snuggling in closer.

"Mist, wake up for a sec."

Misty yawned loudly and stretched her thin limbs, then stared up at him with wide, sleep-filled eyes.

"Listen to me," Ash said seriously, holding her by the shoulders and taking a deep breath. "Misty, if we survive, it's not going to be easy. If you choose to stay with me, you're putting yourself at a hell of a risk even being seen with a wanted criminal. And I know that the odds of us getting out of this are alive are slim to none, but…if we survive, I want…" He paused and took another deep breath, then stared deeply into her eyes. "I want you to marry me."

He shut his eyes and waited for the inevitable slap, but instead of a resounding 'smack' his ears were met with the sound of soft laughter. Before he had even opened his eyes, he felt Misty's soft lips upon his own, then heard her whisper, "Idiot. Like you even had to ask."

* * *

_"Hmm…interesting. The boy's now ranked as one of the top fifty trainers in Kanto. Quite an accomplishment."_

_Renjiro, now fourteen years old, watched helplessly from his position on the sofa as his father continued to page through a stack of documents detailing Ash Ketchum's accomplishments as a trainer over the past year. He had been doing this constantly; it was almost as if the bastard was purposely rubbing salt into Renjiro's still-open wounds concerning the fact that he would never achieve his dream of becoming a Pokemon Master. _

_"Let's see…hmm…taking into account different championships, and factoring in road travel and such…I'd say that the boy should be ready for induction when he's about seventeen. That sounds like a good age to become a Master, don't you think so, Renjiro m'boy?"_

_"Wonderful," Renjiro said sarcastically, slumping a little further into his seat._

_The Leader looked up slowly from his work and smiled at his son. "Oh, by the way, Renjiro," he remarked casually. "I've also made a few changes in my will. Ash Ketchum, as the next Pokemon Master, is now my true heir, and thus the heir to the League. He's a much more deserving boy, don't you think?" He smirked and folded his hands. "Looks like that whole mess with your mother a few years back wasn't really necessary, huh? Oh well."_

_His innocence was gone. His childhood had been stolen. His mother had been killed. He had been forced to become a tool for the League. Renjiro shook with silent anger and pressed his hand against the flesh of his left shoulder, still throbbing from the pain of the tattoo they had forced upon him the day before. Everything had been stolen from him, and now even his inheritance had been given to that…that…__**bastard**__, Ash Ketchum. It was too much for him to bear._

_Renjiro scowled and rapidly clenched and unclenched his fists. __**Just you wait, Ketchum**__, he thought angrily. __**One day, I'll make you pay for everything you've done to me. **_

_And with that deadly promise, the last shred of his purity disappeared._

* * *

The overpowering stench of cigarette smoke and vomit assaulted Renjiro's senses as he stepped into the small, dimly-lit bar, carefully sidestepping a drunkard who had passed out on the threshold. This was the kind of dive that was found only in Western Viridian City…or possibly the sixth circle of hell. Hazy smoke drifted by the dim bulb suspended over the rickety pool table, and bar stools lay broken and scattered, evidence of an earlier fight within the pub. Apart from the bartender who suspiciously eyed Renjiro as he slowly polished a dingy glass, the only other patrons within the room were a group of muscled, tattooed, leather-clad men laughing loudly over some obscene joke in the back corner.

Renjiro approached them silently, his boots crunching the splintered wood and broken glass along his path. The raucous men grew silent as they observed the darkly handsome man standing before them, a loaded gun held dangerously in his gloved right hand. "I have a job for you," he said simply.

* * *

The hotel room was silent as Ash and Misty lay in each other's arms, finally asleep after a long, heartfelt discussion that had lasted most of the night. A thin beam of moonlight stretched across the floor and illuminated a stretch of carpet.

The door creaked loudly as the boorish man forced his way into the room, cutting through the thick locks. He silently cast a glance around in the darkness, then knelt by the bed, retrieved a small box from his waist, and extracted a syringe filled with a clear liquid from it. Stopping only to ensure that the young man was asleep, he injected the liquid into the young woman's pale neck, then flung her over his shoulder and stole off into the night.

* * *

_** To Be Continued…**_

* * *

_Another cliff-hanger. Argh. But this one's actually less frustrating, I think. Or maybe it's just less frustrating to me 'cause I know what's going to happen. At this point, my current estimation is that there'll be about five more chapters, which is good fun, I suppose. _

_Also, there was some HUGE, blatant political satire going on in this chapter. I think that everyone got it…hopefully…_

_Thanks a mil to you guys for your incredible reviews! They really make my day. _


	8. Chapter Seven: Weakness

**A/N:** I'm sorry for this chapter being over a week late! Really I am! I hit a major block around Wednesday of last week, and I just managed to break out of it. Actually, I don't think I'm still out of it, but I wrote this chapter anyway. Which was probably not a terribly good idea, but I was definitely starting to feel horrible. Readers should not have to wait so long for me to post the next chapter to the epic (derisive snort) 'SotS'. So next time I take so long, bring on the flames, people! And cattle prods.

**Disclaimer:** see prologue

**Thanks to:** cultnirvana, KazOhki, Erina-chan, Mony, Metal Mewtwo, Silent Sigh, SulliMike23, Rae8, x Angel of the Night x, Twtygl6, Childsnake.

**Chapter Dedicated to:** The girls—Karen, Kaz, and Erin. I love you guys.

* * *

Soft morning light filtered through the gauzy stained curtains of the hotel room, bathing the small room in a sleepy glow. Ash mumbled groggily and flipped onto his side, extending one arm across the bed and snuggling into his pillow. _Morning already, huh?_

It had been such a wonderful night; he and Misty had spent much of the evening talking in hushed tones while curled together on the bed, just reveling in their closeness to one another. The past five years had just been so painful without her. It was almost a cruel irony that she would be killed just as he began to realize these newly-awakened feelings for the girl who had stood by his side all throughout his journey, and to suddenly have something so precious to him wrenched away allowed those feelings of guilt and loss within him to intensify.

But now they were together again, and they had vowed to die together in their rebellion against the League. Nothing could keep them apart…

Ash's eyes flew open as he moved to wrap his arm around Misty's shoulders and instead came in contact with the cool linens upon the bed. He shot a panicked glance around the room, his eyes falling upon the door, noting with horror that its thick locks had been sawed through. "Misty?" he asked in disbelief, his voice barely a whisper. "Oh my God…"

* * *

_I can't move…_

With a great effort, Misty opened her heavy eyelids and registered her surroundings; it was a clearing, obviously deep within the forest given the dense foliage surrounding it. She could hear the muffled sound of a lone bird chirping, the innocent sound echoing throughout her drugged mind. The early morning sunlight bending through the trees was impossibly bright, and her eyes fell shut against its severity. _Wh…what happened? Where am I?_

Panic slowly began to seep into her mind as Misty remembered that she obviously wasn't where she had last remembered being—tucked safely within Ash's protective embrace back in their hotel room. _Oh my God, Ash! Where is he? What's going __**on**_ She tried desperately to move her head and succeeded in tilting it a bit to the right—

—only to see a scowling Renjiro leaning against the sturdy trunk of a nearby oak, his gaze directed towards the thin beams of sunlight reaching through the thick forest around them.

Misty felt fear seize her heart as she quickly realized her situation—immobilized, in the middle of nowhere, probably miles away from civilization, and with the man who had forcefully taken her so many times before. _No, dammit, please no!_ Panic coursed through her veins as she tried desperately to move her frozen limbs.

As if sensing her terror, Renjiro slowly turned his disaffected stare to the young woman carefully deposited upon the forest floor, her eyes wide with fear and her body shaking. "You're awake," he said simply, moving to kneel next to her upon the ground. "It's been eight hours; apparently that stuff packs quite a punch." One rough hand moved to rest upon her pale cheek.

Images began to play in a terrible sequence in Misty's mind—that first time two years ago when Renjiro had tied her to that dingy motel room's bed and forced himself upon her, kissing away her tears as he pressed the knife harder against her pale neck; the time he had broken into the Leader's office and raped her on top of his desk, telling her in a breathless voice that it was all about power and making her call his name; and his gentle smile at their first meeting on Yasuragi Island five years before, those chilling eyes actually containing an incredible warmth as his hand moved closer to hers…the same eyes that would later bore into hers as he moved against her, one hand fisting in her hair and the other gently brushing away her tears, an odd mix of caring and malice.

"P…please don't," Misty managed to say in a groggy voice, her tongue thick.

Renjiro's eyes remained soft but now contained a measure of sadness and guilt as he slowly drew the hand rested upon her cheek down her neck. "I'm not going to hurt you anymore," he whispered.

She was crying now, tears flowing steadily down the porcelain skin of her delicate visage. Her hands twitched as a bit of feeling returned to them; it was all she could do in the form of trying to escape. He could see the panic in those tear-filled eyes, desperation and fear overwhelming her. Renjiro bit his lip hard and dropped his hand to the ground, digging his fingers angrily into the soft dirt. "Jesus Christ," he said in a trembling voice. "Just one more thing that I swore I'd never do…"

* * *

_The sultry music drifted through the air, mingling with the thick cigar smoke and narrow beams of red and amber light. Renjiro, now fourteen, sat uncomfortably against the wall in the large conference room that had been cleared out for this 'event', unable to tear his eyes away from what was occurring only a few feet away._

_She was by all accounts a beautiful girl, with waist-length ebony hair and pale skin, delicate curves well-defined and accentuated by the skintight pants and halter top she wore. She had smiled at Renjiro when she first came in, the corners of her red lacquered lips curving up gently as she patted him on the head. "Are you like your father, honey?" she had asked in a husky voice as her emerald eyes studied him intently._

_He hadn't answered; he honestly didn't know. Was he like his father? He had certainly changed over the past two years; his innocence and naivety had melted away, leaving only a blank template that had quickly been imprinted by the callousness and severity of his father and his comrades. Renjiro no longer felt compassion or kindness, as he had since learned that they were out of place in this world. "Such emotions will only hinder you in life, Renjiro m'boy," his father had said. "It's all about power. And through power comes admiration, just as weakness is something to be abhorred."_

_**Weakness is something to be abhorred…**__ He hated her. He hated that woman for her weakness, for submitting to his father. From across the room, her tear-filled emerald eyes pleaded with him for a moment before his father afforded her a harsh slap and turned their desperate gaze back to him. __**Dammit, don't let him! Stop him; he's not that strong! You can overpower him!**_

_Renjiro clutched the small bottle of ginger ale more tightly in his hands as his father continued to viciously rape the young woman, his thoughts inadvertently drifting back to one of his earliest memories._

* * *

_"And what, pray tell, is the justification for __**this**__ one, Katsuro!?"_

_"How many times have I told you that the details of my professional life are none of your business, bitch?"_

_"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm only your __**wife**__! What possible justification could I have for wanting to know why my husband comes home with __**lipstick**__ on his __**underwear**_

_Three-year-old Renjiro looked up cautiously from the Lego pirate ship he was in the process of building to see his mother and father glaring at each other in the middle of the living room, fists clenched and eyes narrowed. They had been fighting a lot lately, but this one seemed to surpass all the others in intensity. Renjiro didn't know or care why they were so angry; he just wanted them to stop._

_"Let me just tell you one thing, Kaminari, in case you didn't understand the conditions I put forth when we were married," Katsuro Nanahara said in a dangerous voice. "Anything that happens while I'm out on business is not to be questioned—especially by you. Got it?"_

_Kaminari Nanahara narrowed her eyes and, in one swift motion, drew back her hand and struck her husband across the face, ignoring his startled cry. "Consider that payback," she hissed angrily. "With compound interest. Would you care to explain why the police called me today and asked me if I knew anything about my husband's __**repeated**__ rapes of young women in towns all across Kanto!? Dammit, one of them is __**pregnant**__, Katsuro. Another one just committed suicide. What the hell have you done!?"_

_Katsuro regained his composure and quickly grabbed his wife by her hair and flipped her onto her back, pressing the sole of his Italian-leather shoe against her neck. "You have no right to question me, bitch," he said simply, applying a bit more pressure and smirking at the choked gurgle emanating from her throat. "And neither did they. I'm executive VP of the League, my dear. I __**always**__ get what I want." _

_Renjiro curled against the paneled wall, trying desperately to be strong and stave off his tears. His lower lip trembled at the desperation in his mother's eyes._

_Kaminari coughed violently and rubbed her throat with one hand as she reached for Renjiro with the other, pulling his tiny body towards the door. "I'm leaving," she said in a shaky voice, stopping to grab her coat from the rack. "I can't do this anymore; Mother was right."_

_Katsuro didn't miss a beat; no sooner had she let go of Renjiro's hand to grab her coat then he had grabbed the boy and pressed the gun that had been concealed in his suit jacket against his temple. "Go ahead and leave, Kaminari," he said simply, pulling back the hammer. "Renjiro and I will be fine on our own."_

_"Renjiro!" she screamed, lunging forward but freezing instantly as she observed her husband's finger tightening on the trigger. "Y-you wouldn't," she said in a breathless voice. "Y…you wouldn't kill your own son!"_

_"And what is he to me?" Katsuro said with a shrug. "Just a product of your weakness. And a worthless one at that."_

_Renjiro shut his eyes tightly as fear continued to race through his body. He didn't know why he was so scared; he only knew that danger was so apparent that his mind had ceased to function. __**Mommy,**__ he thought desperately, opening his eyes a bit and pleading silently with the terrified woman standing frozen by the door. __**Mommy, please, save me! Don't let him hurt me anymore! Take me away with you!**_

_"I'm waiting for an answer, Kaminari."_

_Her eyes had filled with tears; the bruises and scars upon her fair skin that had long since been healed now once again seemed to radiate pain. She could escape, but then her son…her little Renjiro… She shut her eyes against the impending tears and dropped her coat uselessly to the floor._

_Katsuro smiled maliciously as he tossed aside the gun carelessly and moved into the spacious kitchen. "So, what are we having for dinner, dear?"_

_Renjiro remained frozen in his terrified position, noting only his mother's impossibly sad expression as she followed her husband. __**Why, Mommy?**_

_**Why don't you take us away from here?**_

* * *

_**You're all the same,**__ Renjiro thought with a scowl, sipping a bit of his ginger ale as the young woman's screams began to echo throughout the conference room, quickly being silenced as a gunshot sounded. __**Weak little bitches. Don't know when to run. And so you pay the price.**_

_"That was a waste of energy," he distantly heard his father say with a bit of a laugh, zipping his pants and wiping the blood coating his hands upon his handkerchief. "Having fun, Renjiro?" he called across the room._

_**And I'll make sure you pay, too.**_

* * *

Renjiro felt his gaze hardening and his mind filling with hate as he watched Misty continue to cry and desperately attempt to crawl away from him, a small bit of feeling having returned to her legs. _She's completely helpless_, he thought with a scowl, feeling the familiar rage and malice beginning to seep into his conscious. _Powerless. Weak. Just like the rest of them._

But just as the hatred and anger began to once again overtake his mind, a long-forgotten memory began to resurface. He could see her clearly, those friendly aquamarine eyes alight with happiness, pink-tinged lips curved into a smile as she continued to regale him with the particulars of her book. He had stared at her, completely mesmerized by her beauty as they sat upon that hard boardwalk bench, his mission all but forgotten as he first met the fiery Misty Williams. Renjiro shut his eyes as the emotion of that moment came back to him in a dizzying rush; her smile had done what nothing else in his life had ever even come close to doing—it had made him happy. Truly happy.

He hated himself for taking advantage her. He hated her for letting him do it. He hated his father for molding him into the monster he was today. But one emotion rose above all the hatred choking his heart.

"Misty," Renjiro said in a soft whisper, pulling her into a tight embrace and resting his head against hers. He breathed in deeply, her hair smelling of rainwater and freesia. "You can't move yet, and I'm glad. If you had control over your body, you'd never let me do something I've wanted to do since I first laid eyes on you all those years ago."

Misty shut her eyes and twisted weakly in Renjiro's embrace, crying and whimpering. She didn't even care that she was doing exactly what he always wanted by showing desperation—and, consequently, weakness. The only thought in her mind was to escape before he once again forced himself on her. _Please don't…please, Renjiro…_

Renjiro silently tilted her head to the side and, softly brushing a kiss against her lips, whispered, "I love you."

* * *

_Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!_

Ash ran through the streets of the small town, his mind racing as he considered where the kidnappers may have taken Misty. _They could have gone into the Viridian Forest…it's always a possibility…_

But then, with the League taking such an aggressive stance towards his destruction, wouldn't it be more probable that they had taken her back to League Headquarters in Viridian City? Ash felt a chill run down his spine as images raced through his head of Misty being brutally tortured and raped as the League's agents attempted to force every bit of information she knew out of her already scarred and abused mind. _I'll be damned if I let them hurt her anymore!_

He ran faster as he headed for the train station.

* * *

"Mr. Nanahara?"

Katsuro Nanahara looked boredly at the stern-faced man standing in the doorway of his office, a stack of papers in his hands. "What is it now, Jensen?"

Jensen strode into the office and deposited the papers upon his desk. "Some more information about your son, sir."

"Renjiro? Where is the dear boy?"

"Viridian Forest, sir."

"Carrying out Project Waterflower, I assume?"

"W-we believe so, sir. Misty Williams is currently in his custody."

Katsuro scowled a bit and reclined in his office chair, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. "Jensen, enlighten me. Why did we entrust this traitorous little insect with this part of the plan?"

"Because sir," Jensen responded in a flat voice. "You informed me that it would be all the more interesting if we could somehow bring all three of our traitors together, remember? And then when the last stage of the plan is put into motion—"

"Ah, yes, I remember now. A stroke of genius on my part, wasn't it?"

"Indeed, sir."

Katsuro smiled at his old friend—a smile which quickly morphed into a frown as he once again turned his gaze to the small framed photograph on his desk. "Let's just hope," he said in a slightly disturbed tone, "that Renjiro's rather…errant emotions do not once again enter the picture."

* * *

All at once, the numbness faded away, and the feeling returned to her long-since immobilized limbs. Misty flexed her fingers experimentally, then slowly stretched her legs. Her gaze turned back to Renjiro, who continued to hold her tightly against his chest.

"So, you can move aga—" Renjiro's observation was cut short as Misty's fist connected with his jaw, a resounding 'crack' sounding throughout the tranquil forest. Blood filled his mouth, the faintly metallic taste reminding him all-too-well that Ash had dealt him a very similar blow only a few days before. He spat once, then wiped his mouth against his shirt sleeve and noted, "And you've regained your fighting spirit. I have to say I'm quite relieved; I thought you'd lost it."

Misty straightened to her full height, her eyes narrowed dangerously and her body trembling with rage. "I'm going to kill you," she said in a low voice.

Renjiro smiled faintly at the nearly-tangible rage surrounding the furious young woman before him, his blood staining her right fist. "Go ahead," he replied with a slight shrug. "I think you've earned it."

Misty dealt him another ferocious blow that he didn't even attempt to block, then continued to beat his arms, torso, face…any part of his body that he failed to protect. "How could you do this to me!?" she yelled angrily, hot tears cascading down her cheeks. "You can't even imagine how much _pain_ you've caused me! You _raped_ me, debased me, tortured me, mocked me, humiliated me, and now you've stolen me from the one thing in this world I love more than anything!" Her punches slowed as her arms began to tire and weaken. "Why, Renjiro?" she asked in a teary voice. "What did I ever do to you?" Misty's arms dropped to her sides as she fell to her knees. "What did I _do_!?"

Renjiro carefully moved to place a hand upon her shoulder, quickly removing it as she fiercely slapped him. "Misty," he said softly, pulling his protesting body into a sitting position next to her on the forest floor. "You deserve to kill me. You've earned that right." He drew in a deep breath, then pulled his gun from the holster at his hip. "But I have a job to do."

* * *

Ash glanced impatiently at his watch as he stood in the terminal. _Dammit, how long does it take a fuckin' train to get here?_ He nervously glanced around at the citizens around him, frowning as he observed the headline of the paper one of them carried: 'MASTER ASH KETCHUM REVEALED TO HAVE DEALINGS WITH RADICAL TERRORIST GROUPS IN LIBYA'. _They're just having a field day with this, aren't they?_

His heart clenched painfully in his chest as Misty's smiling visage once again came to the forefront of his mind, along with their conversation from the previous night. Ash dropped his gaze to the smooth, white skin of his left ring finger, his mind repeating the words endlessly. _"I want you to marry me,"_ he'd said. And dammit, she had _agreed_. He remembered her soft, lilting laugh, the tender light in her eyes as she gently kissed him and told him that he didn't even have to ask.

And it was only the day before that he had promised never to let anyone take her from him again! He'd vowed to protect her! Ash bit hard against the inside of his cheek as the Leader's words came back to him: a wretch, he'd called him. An _abomination_. Was he anything more if he couldn't even protect the woman he loved?

To hell with protecting the citizens of Viridian City, those treacherous fools who had turned on him the second the media had announced that he was under investigation. The League had manipulated their gullible little minds into believing what ever they wanted. _I'll bring those bastards down,_ he swore, _but saving Misty has to come first._

"Hey, Phil, didja see that dame back in the forest?"

Ash turned to see a pair of hikers walking towards him, their heavy gear still slung across their backs. They remained oblivious to his presence as they continued their innocent, casual conversation. "You mean that red-headed chick?" the second hiker asked.

"Yeah, with the really long legs. Man, was she _somethin'_."

_Red-headed chick?_ Ash felt his heart speed up as he attempted to appear inconspicuous while listening intently to their conversation.

"I'll say. Completely gorgeous. But I think she was with somebody; remember that guy we saw?"

"Boy, do I ever. He had the freakiest eyes I've ever seen in my life, he did."

_Red-haired girl…guy with weird eyes…_ Ash leapt across the train platform and grabbed one of the men by the shirt and growled, "Where were they!?"

"Uh…um…deep in Viridian Forest!" the man stammered, unnerved by the piercing glare of the dark-haired man holding him a good three inches above the ground.

"How long ago!?"

"A-about three hours!"

The man fell to the ground with an audible 'thud' as Ash broke into a furious sprint towards the forest. "What do you suppose that was about?" he asked his comrade in a confused voice.

* * *

Misty gazed silently at Renjiro's hard-set features as he pulled back the hammer of his gun. "So you're going to kill me?" she asked in a flat, emotionless voice.

"I have orders," he responded in what he hoped would be a forceful tone, though a tremor of fear soon crept into his voice. "It's called Project Waterflower—the League is trying to systematically break Ash's spirit. First stage was the whole media fiasco; they're turning the citizens against him. And now, I have to kill you. The League knows that Ash won't be able to stand it if the girl he loves…" Renjiro swallowed hard at the admission. "…is murdered. And that's where I come into play."

He had expected indignation. Fear, anger, rage, desperation, _anything_. But Misty simply turned her turquoise eyes, filled with what almost seemed like sympathy and understanding, upon him and said, "So what are you waiting for?" She silently wrapped her small hand around the gun and pressed the barrel against her chest. "Kill me."

Renjiro felt his blood pounding in his ears, heart thrumming in his chest. The gun that was usually held so confidently in his hands had begun to shake violently, and he could barely even hold it against her soft flesh. _Dammit, concentrate!_

Her tender smile…

_You have a mission!_

That carefree laugh…

_Just pull the trigger, you bastard!_

Her gentle eyes…

_Don't be weak!_

The way she made him feel…

_Renjiro…_

He fired.

* * *

Halfway through the forest, the sound of a gunshot rang out, scattering a flock of Pidgeys into the air. Ash's mind froze as he realized that the probability of hunters being out in the forest at this time of year…

_Misty!_

* * *

Renjiro's eyes fell to the forest floor as he dropped the smoking gun from his hand. Tears fell from his tightly-shut eyes as he dug his nails forcefully into the dirt. "Dammit…I…can't…."

Misty remained frozen for a second, then, hazarding a glance back at the tree where a smoking bullet now lay lodged in its trunk, placed a hand upon Renjiro's shoulder. "I knew you couldn't," she said in a soft voice. "Do you know why, Renjiro? Why you couldn't kill me?"

Renjiro didn't answer, his body still trembling.

"Because," she said simply, brushing away a few of his tears. "I'm your weakness. You can go on and on about how weak I am, how I'm worthless because I've submitted to you instead of fighting back…I don't understand why, but you can't stand to see anyone laying down and sublimating themselves. But what you _don't_ understand is that you're just as human as the rest of us." She smiled faintly as the sound of someone desperately calling out her name reached her ears. Placing a gentle kiss upon Renjiro's cheek, she said, "And you're just as weak as the rest of us, too. And that's why you'll never be one of them."

"Misty! Misty!"

Misty gave him a relieved smile as Ash, his clothes and body torn and scratched by thorns, burst into the clearing, his eyes filling with relief as he observed Misty standing calmly by a broken Renjiro. "Oh my God, Misty! You're all right!" He gathered her into a protective embrace and fought back tears. "I thought…oh my God, I thought I'd never see you again! I thought that they'd…"

"It's okay, Ash," Misty said soothingly, winding her arms around his torso and resting her head against his chest. "Everything'll be all right."

"Ash."

The serenity of their embrace was shattered by that one syllable, spoken by an angry Renjiro now hauling himself upright and glaring at his rival. "I'm glad you two were reunited," he said in an acidic tone. "But let me tell you this—you're not making it out of this alive."

"Let me tell you something, you son-of-a-bitch—" Ash began heatedly, only to be cut off by a pointed glare from Renjiro.

"You don't know how to take them on. Ash, you may have been the League's pride and joy when you were a Master, but you were just a figurehead. _I'm_ the only one who knows how to make them fall apart from the inside out." He narrowed his eyes. "And if you want to take them down, you can't do this alone."

"What are you saying?" Misty asked curiously.

"You and I have the same goals, Ash," Renjiro said simply. "But we're too weak alone. You have taken absolutely everything from me on this earth—" He shut his eyes against the taunting memories. "—but it's not really time for you to know just how much. The bottom line is we have to combine forces if we want to take those bastards down.

"I'm the Leader's son; you both know that. But there is no one who hates that bastard more. Come hell or high water I'm taking him down. Got it? You guys are welcome to tag along."

Ash and Misty glanced at each other, their eyes both holding an unspoken answer. Could they trust Renjiro, the man who had betrayed them, hunted them down, shot them, and nearly broken Misty?

"Take it or leave it, guys. But you can't win this alone."

Ash sighed, then, nodding at Misty, placed his hand on top of Renjiro's. "We're in."

* * *

_"It's all about weakness," Katsuro said to his young son as they strolled through their mansion's immaculately-kept gardens. "You exploit the weakness of your enemies, and through that exploitation comes power. It's practically basic instinct, m'boy."_

_"But father, how do you get close enough to the enemy to take advantage of their weakness in the first place?"_

_"Oh, that's very easy, boy. If they're desperate enough, people will believe anything you tell them."_

* * *

_** To Be Continued…**_

* * *

_This chapter is actually pretty short in comparison to others; my apologies! And note the auspicious lack of a clearly-defined cliffhanger, just a bit of mystique? I'm getting better at this!_

_All comments and criticism welcome!_


	9. Chapter Eight: Preparation

**A/N:** Well, I don't know if I can really apologize enough for having this chapter be so incredibly, incredibly late. I mean, an entire month? Come on, Anysia! Quit slacking!

But seriously, there were a lot of circumstances beyond my control that fucked up my life royally and kept me from getting this chapter done at a reasonable time, and my authoress friends—cultnirvana, zephyrstar, Erina-chan, and Mony—will back me up on that, I'm sure. At any rate, this is the second-to-last chapter, so there's only a little bit to go, anyway. Enjoy!

Oh, yes, a quick warning: there is some sexual content in the last scene, so I'd advise the younger members of the audience (who should not even be reading this in the first place!) to proceed with caution.

**Disclaimer:** see prologue

**Thanks to:** cultnirvana, zephyrstar, Erina-chan, Mony, Metal Mewtwo, SulliMike23, Angel in the Shadows, Rae8, Twtygl6, and Just me and myself.

**Chapter Dedicated to:** My dear, flighty sister, Carly. As the only reader who has to actually put up with me and my artistic temperament in a real life setting, she has incredible patience with me and has never once pestered me about getting the next chapter up more quickly. Whether this is kindness or disinterest I have yet to discover, but it is still appreciated.

I'll have that happy ending all written for you by the end, kiddo.

* * *

Hushed whispers echoed throughout the marble hall as the Council members once again met amongst the shadows in the lower levels of the League's headquarters in Viridian City. It had just become known that the manhunt for the fugitive Ash Ketchum had actually intensified from even its earlier fever-pitch; such was yet another installment of good news in a long line of favorable reports.

"Gentlemen," Katsuro said with a slight smile, "things are going exactly according to plan. Of course, there were a few...difficulties earlier on in the program..." His smile immediately slipped back into a harsh scowl at the memory of Renjiro's earlier actions. "...but rest assured that everything is well on-course. Our plans shall not go awry."

"But the original plan was to have Ketchum _killed_," the youngest member of the League noted with a slightly exasperated edge to his tone. "How the hell can you say that everything's going according to plan when you yourself have _changed_ the plan about forty times?"

Katsuro simply smiled patiently and let out a short, barking laugh. "My boy," he said comfortingly, "you vastly overestimate your importance with us. My plans have _always_ been consistent, have they not my brethren? When did I ever claim that my purpose was anything but to capture Ketchum alive?"

"Never, sir," the shadowy figures chorused quickly.

"Do _you_ recall me ever saying that I wanted Ketchum dead?"

"No, sir."

"There, you see, boy? It must be your own confusion that led you to believe such a thing," Katsuro said simply.

"B—but..." the youngest member sputtered. "I distinctly remember..."

Before he had even finished his sentence, Jensen, Katsuro's second-in-command, had calmly extracted his trusty Colt .45 from his waistband and pointed it squarely at his chest. Katsuro glanced at Jensen, then turned his attention back to the young dissenter. "Any more questions, boy?"

The young man shut his eyes and swallowed hard, then said in a low voice, "No, sir."

With a quick nod to Katsuro, Jensen returned the gun to his waistband and stood by the Leader's side. "Now then," Katsuro continued, "about this year's Christmas party..."

* * *

"This is where you've been hiding, huh?"

Renjiro cast an emotionless gaze around the small hotel room, his eyes finally settling on the creaky bed. He smirked at his now-blushing hosts and wordlessly seated himself on the mattress, the box springs creaking and groaning in protest at the new weight set upon them. "Very glamorous," he observed, running a hand through his ebony locks and stretching. "Just the kind of place I'd expect to be harboring a pair of adorable little lovebirds like you two."

Ash and Misty simultaneously scowled at the man who was now comfortably seated upon their bed. "Get off," Ash said through clenched teeth as he grabbed Renjiro forcefully by the arm. "I don't want to have to boil the damn thing."

Renjiro narrowed his eyes at Ash, angrily shaking off his iron grip. "Misty," he called sweetly over Ash's shoulder, "would you please call off your attack boy here? If you expect us to work together to help take down the League, you're going to have to keep him on a leash, okay?"

Misty clenched her jaw tightly and shut her eyes, a short prayer running through her mind as she struggled to keep from striking Renjiro forcefully across the face for his facetiousness. "Ash," she said softly, placing a hand upon his shoulder, "calm down. Nothing good will come out of killing him."

"Apart from him being dead, of course." Ash gave his rival a hard shove and slumped moodily against the wall, casting a very pointed glare at Misty for good measure.

"Now," Renjiro began, sending a quick sweeping gaze around the room and frowning a bit when he failed to observe anything in the way of weaponry, "what exactly do you guys plan to do to stop the League from essentially destroying the entire region—and having you two break their fall?"

Ash and Misty exchanged a slightly confused look as they realized that they had yet to really make any headway in their miniature rebellion against their former oppressors. "Um...were we supposed to have a strategy by now?" Ash asked carefully.

"_What_?" Renjiro asked incredulously. "You two have been hiding out here for the past few days, completely isolated, watching the news reports get even more and more ominous, and you haven't done a _goddamned thing in the way of strategy_!?" He buried his face in his hands. "I'm surrounded by idiots. What the fuck were you _doing_ all this time?" He let out a long sigh, then switched on the small television and sat on the edge of the bed. "The least we can do is see what the President has to say about all this."

"The President is giving an address?" Misty asked, sitting next to Ash against the wall.

Renjiro regarded her in disbelief. "God, you guys are _really_ in the dark with this whole situation, aren't you? Damn shame, really." His eyes narrowed darkly at Ash. "You would have been better off with me, Misty. You're going to die with that bastard."

"I'd rather die with him than be alive with you," Misty responded in a flat voice.

A small smile crossed Renjiro's features. He shot Ash one more glare for good measure then turned up the volume on the TV set. "You guys might want to pay attention to this."

"The recent actions of Master Ketchum are absolutely unforgivable crimes against humanity," the President said in a forceful tone, slamming his fist down hard upon the wooden podium he stood behind. "The murders and absolute destruction carried out by this former paragon of morality and upstanding character shall not go unpunished. It is my understanding that Katsuro Nanahara, the president and CEO of the League, has been doing absolutely everything in his power to capture Ketchum and bring him to justice. I urge every citizen in the entire region to grant the League their full support, just as I place my faith in their abilities to secure this dangerous and wanted criminal."

Renjiro shook his head and switched off the TV, staring evenly at Ash. "Any questions, kid?"

"We already _knew_ that Ash was in major trouble, Renjiro," Misty interjected. "And that everyone essentially wants him dead now."

"But for the President to call upon the citizens to back up the League means that you've lost the support of the government, too," Renjiro said pointedly.

"Don't they know how corrupt the League is!?" Ash yelled angrily as he stood and glared at the now-dark TV screen. "They're the ones who are doing this, not me! They've killed so many people, and the government is just going to sit back and let them get away with it just because they say that it's—"

An exceptionally angry glare from Renjiro stopped him mid-sentence. "Do you honestly think that the government isn't well-aware of the League's transgressions?" he asked angrily. "The problem is that they're receiving some hefty kickbacks from my father and his little friends—the President included. They're not going to do a damn thing to discourage a substantial under-the-table side income, now are they?"

"But that's completely corrupt!" Ash protested.

Renjiro let out a short, humorless laugh and shook his head. "You still don't get it, do you, boy? But I wouldn't lose any sleep over the President; if everything goes according to the League's plans, you won't have to worry about him much longer."

* * *

The streets of Viridian City were eerily calm in the still night, the stars shining brilliantly above the urban high-rises in the midst of the cold air. Two dark-clothed men strode silently down the cracked sidewalk with guns in hand, their eyes set ahead and focused upon the ivy-choked brick of McShain Hall, the primary dormitory of Viridian City University.

Minutes later, the locks to Room 326 had been cut and the room quickly seized by the two men. The young woman sleeping soundly within was roughly roused and immediately handcuffed, her head pressed against the worn carpet. "You're under arrest by order of the League for anti-governmental thoughts and ideas," one of the men said in an emotionless voice. "If you come along without a struggle, your chances for survival will be substantially increased."

The young woman didn't even try to fight. "'Substantially increased'?" she asked with a short laugh as the men escorted her out of the room. "That's a laugh. And what is this, the Thought Police? This whole thing has really become Orwellian."

"That's exactly the kind of talk that got you in trouble in the first place," the other man said simply, extracting a knife from his pocket and wordlessly slicing her throat. He quickly nodded to his partner, and the two of them exited the dormitory, leaving the young woman to slowly bleed to death in the corridor.

* * *

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

Katsuro stared silently at the perpetual motion toy on his desk, the three silver spheres at the center remaining eternally still despite the two clacking spheres continually smashing into them and attempting to force them into motion. His distorted reflection stared back at him from within the center of the spheres—the graying hair, ice-blue eyes, and sharp features so indicative of his shrewd and ruthless character that it nearly brought a smile to his face.

"Sir? It's Jensen."

The toy's spell was broken as the static-filled voice of the Director of Security echoed throughout the office from the speakerphone upon the desk. "What is it Jensen?" Katsuro asked as he held down a button upon the phone.

"I'm just calling to inform you that Subversive #3485, Lauren Saul, has been effectively neutralized. A total of eighty rebels have been taken care of tonight, making it our fourth successful assassination night in the past few months."

"Thank you, Jensen," Katsuro responded. "By the way, have you heard from that idiot Renjiro yet?"

"No transmission as of yet, sir, but his report is not due for another two hours. Should I attempt to contact him?"

Katsuro turned his attention back to the perpetual motion toy. "No, no. I'm sure he's fine. Thank you, Jensen," he said distractedly, then removed his finger from the button.

Clack.

_Renjiro, m'boy,_ he thought with a dark smile. _You could learn a lot from this device. No matter how hard the outer sphere comes down, it will never move the center sphere from its position. The center sphere is immovable, unshakeable...the outer sphere can never win against it. It would be better served to simply give up the fight and accept that it will never conquer the center sphere._

_Isn't that right, boy?_

CLACK.

* * *

Two sharp knocks upon the hotel room door sounded throughout the small room, momentarily startling its occupants. Renjiro smirked to himself, then rushed over to the door, opening it cautiously and taking a black duffel bag from a shadow-cloaked figure on the other side. "Thanks for your help, pal," he said, still smirking, then hefted the bag into the room and shut the door behind him.

"Who was that?" Misty asked curiously as she peered through the slit blinds.

"A friend," Renjiro said simply, depositing the duffel bag upon the floor and unzipping it. "Now this is where things are going to get interested. Here, Misty." He quickly threw a small, dark object towards her.

Misty caught the object easily, her mind immediately filling with dread as she realized just what she held in her hands. The smooth metal glinted dangerously in the low light of the hotel room. _God, I never wanted to see this thing again..._ Her trusty Baby Eagle sat innocently in her hands, completely loaded and ready to be fired. "Renjiro..."

"And here you go, Ash," Renjiro continued, ignoring her. He reached into the duffel bag and extracted a Glock 26, then handed it to Ash thoughtlessly. "Careful, the safeties aren't on."

"Safeties? As in, more than one?" Ash asked curiously, inspecting the gun.

"Three, as a matter of fact. I figured you'd be better off with a safer gun since the odds of you accidentally shooting yourself are pretty good."

"Why you—"

"Now, Misty," Renjiro continued on without paying Ash any mind. "I'm going to need you to be ruthless. Do you think you can handle that, babe?"

Misty shut her eyes and exhaled, her mind racing with thoughts of all the times she had armed herself with the same type of gun, her hands shaking as she fired off round after round until a dignitary or politician—hell, whomever the League wanted out of the way—was dead. She fought back the urge to stuff the gun down Renjiro's throat and tell him to forget the whole thing, then said, "That won't be a problem."

"Good. 'Cause I know you've got it in you." Renjiro gingerly touched his heavily bruised left eye, which had been on the receiving end of Misty's earlier torrent of blows back in the forest. "Ash, the only thing I have to tell you is this—try not to get yourself killed."

"Let me tell you something, Renjiro," Ash said acidly. "I am not this amateur kid that you seem to think I am. Since I started this personal rebellion of mine against the League, I've been shot myself, watched the woman I love nearly die, seen the destruction of an entire organization, and watched half of the city I've lived in for past five years erupt into flames. I am _not_ a child, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop treating me like one, you son-of-a-bitch!"

Misty smiled adoringly at Ash after he had finished his spiel, while Renjiro merely crossed his arms across his chest and smirked once again. "God, that _temper_," he intoned. "It's a real shame you don't take more after your mother. Nice lady."

Ash's eyes widened at the mention of his mother. He realized that he hadn't even spoken to her since this whole ordeal had begun, and he had no idea as to whether she was safe or not. And now, to hear her mentioned so casually in passing by this, the League's deadliest and most notorious assassin...

Within seconds, Renjiro was pressed hard against the wall, the newly-acquired Glock sticking him in the ribs. "What the fuck did you do to my mother?" Ash asked angrily between clenched teeth.

"Ash! Ash, calm down!" Misty cried as she leapt over the bed and tugged desperately on Ash's arm. He remained steadfastly in his position, one hand pinning Renjiro to the wall by his neck, the other clutching the Glock somewhat desperately and pressing the barrel against his chest.

"What did you do to her, you bastard!?" Ash repeated in an even more dangerous tone. "You killed her, didn't you? Just one more life to add to the pile for you, isn't it? I swear to fucking God, I'll kill you!"

Renjiro's features did not shift from their emotionless appearance, eyebrows only slightly arched. "Ash, would you please calm down?" he asked simply, seemingly ignoring the gun pressed against his ribcage. "Yeah, I was assigned to kill your mother a few days ago. But, like every _other_ order I've been given, I defied it. I evacuated her to Honolulu on the red-eye, where she's probably currently worried to death about you but otherwise fine."

The pressure of the gun lessened a bit as Ash regarded Renjiro skeptically. His hand loosened around the assassin's neck. "Really?"

"Ash, I may be a bastard beyond compare," Renjiro said darkly, "but I'll never let a mother die. Got that?"

"Ash, please," Misty pleaded. "We're in this together. Don't cause any more discord than what's already here, okay?"

Affording Misty a long stare, Ash released Renjiro from his hold and tucked the Glock into the waistband of his jeans. "All right," he said in a slightly defeated voice. He gently took Misty's hand into his own and stroked his thumb across the soft skin. "I'll be good for you, Mist."

Misty smiled at him wistfully, then squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Thank you."

* * *

The youngest League member wrapped his jacket more tightly around his body as he rushed down the sidewalk, occasionally sending darting glances from side to side to ensure that no one had yet discovered him here._ Please, God, don't let anyone have seen me drop off those weapons..._ He tucked his hands into his pockets as the wind whipped around him, a chill starting to run up his spine.

Yet he knew instinctively that it wasn't only the cold causing the chill in his blood. The fear of what he was forced to carry out when he returned to League headquarters had overtaken his mind with anxiety and trepidation. Could he actually be that ruthless, that callous, that _fearless_?

So much had changed for him over the past three years. The League had just begun their crackdown on gym leaders and other figures working in conjunction with the League when they had decided to begin upping the funding of their genetic engineering program. The purpose was to make genetically-modified Pokemon that were stronger, faster, and just all-around better than any who had come before them, and they had gone about enlisting the best Pokemon researchers and scientists in the field. That had unfortunately meant him, as he was quite a rising star in the scientific community. They had given him a choice, of course—join them or die. He hadn't been brave or strong enough to fight back, or even to seek out that elusive 'Opposition' that he had heard so much about; in fact, he had burned that odd letter he had received in the mail.

_I wasn't ready to die..._he thought somewhat ashamedly. _And I'm not ready now. But to be free..._

He and Ash had been rivals for ages, and no matter how hard he tried, Ash always managed to surpass him. Even now, in this miniature uprising against the League, if Ash died, he would at least be free from the corruption and evil that had choked him for the past five years. Whereas he...he was bound to the League unless...

_Unless this works,_ he thought. Lowering his head against the wind, he ran faster as his thoughts began to race. He could be free...dammit, he could be _free_...

The fear began to subside.

* * *

"You're going to have to trust me."

Ash and Misty shared a skeptical glance from their position seated side-by-side upon the bed as Renjiro held up the small chalkboard from the duffel bag, upon which were countless strategic squiggles and lines. "Neither of you has the kind of notoriety or clout with the League that would endow you with their trust at this point. Ash, you're their fall guy, and Misty, they want you dead just to hurt Ash. Whereas I...well, it doesn't matter about me. All that matters is that I'm the only one here with strong ties to the League."

Ash let out a derisive snort. "And after all they've done to us, that's supposed to be a good thing?"

Renjiro's eyes narrowed. "So you're not going to trust me?"

Ash stood slowly and smirked at the assassin. "Does it look like I am?"

Renjiro returned the smirk, then balled up his fist and went for a quick right hook at Ash's jaw...that was quickly stopped as Misty's own fist slammed hard into the back of his head, sending him face-first into the carpet.

Ash smiled at her. "Thanks, Mis—" His words were cut off as that same fist connected with his jaw and knocked him to the ground in one swift motion.

"I am absolutely sick of this!" Misty yelled angrily, balling her fists at her sides and shooting angry glares from Ash to Renjiro. "All you two do is fight over the most inconsequential things! Nothing is going to get accomplished this way! Now you two assholes are going to work together, and you're going to _like_ it! Or else I'll kill you both here myself! _Am I making myself clear_?!"

Renjiro's mouth hung open slightly at the display of ferocity from the fiery redhead before them. He turned confusedly to Ash but was met with the sight of him bowing fearfully to Misty, beads of sweat collecting upon his brow. "You gotta get used to the drill man," Ash whispered in an aside.

Renjiro simply smiled and shook his head. "Alright, Misty, I'm willing to work with this bastard here if he is." He retrieved the chalkboard. "Now, as I was saying about the proposed strategy..."

"I hope I didn't hurt you too much..."

Renjiro scowled slightly as Misty bent down to carefully inspect Ash's features to make sure that she hadn't injured him. "Guys..."

"Nothing that I'm not used to, what with you swinging your mallet around back in the day," Ash responded with a slight smile, taking her offered hand and pulling himself to his feet.

"Hey..."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Misty asked seriously, gently brushing his cheek with the back of her hand.

"Yeah," Ash said softly as he continued to hold her small hand in his own.

Renjiro's scowl deepened at the romantic ambience that had begun to permeate the small room. It made him slightly sick to his stomach, truth be told, and he cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to break the two apart. "Hey, you two lovebirds plan on cutting this mushy crap out at any point?"

Ash's eyes immediately narrowed, and he went to make a sarcastic retort before he felt Misty squeeze his hand—hard. "Be the better person, Ash," she said simply, glaring a bit at Renjiro. "He's not worth the energy."

Ash continued to glare a bit at Renjiro, then squeezed Misty's hand in response. "If you say so."

Renjiro's anger only intensified at the tenderness contained within Misty's aquamarine eyes as she gazed lovingly at Ash. _It's not fair,_ Renjiro thought angrily. _It's just not fair! That bastard has taken __**everything**__! Why does he get to have Misty too?_ Suddenly, a slow smile filled with an odd glee spread across his features. _Oh, but don't worry, Ash; you'll understand what it feels like to lose everything dear to you soon enough._

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, back to our plans," Renjiro said with a smile.

* * *

"Our fourth quarter returns were substantially less than we had initially anticipated, owing much to..."

The youngest League member stepped cautiously into the conference room, carefully eyeing the other Council members, who now sat clad in tailored Italian suits rather than the hooded robes that they donned during League meetings. They were all there, save Jensen and the Leader himself, of course. Those two were 'above' such simple proceedings as board meetings.

"Mr. Oak, would you care to join us?" Blomquist, the chairman, said in a haughty voice. "Or do you just plan to stand there in the doorway while the rest of us actually—" He was cut off as a shot rang out through the conference room, a bullet tearing through his torso.

Within seconds, six more shots had been fired, and seven of the ten Council members lay dead in the small room. Gary held the smoking Ruger in his extended hands, his breath coming in sharp pants as he observed the pools of blood forming on the floor and on the long conference table. He quickly shook off the terrible deed he had just committed and broke into a run towards Katsuro's office.

* * *

"Yes, Jensen, the report was due over an hour ago! Where the hell is—"

Three shots rang out. Katsuro's body was pressed back into the soft leather of his desk chair as the bullets tore through his chest.

"I hereby resign, you bastard!" Gary cried angrily, firing one more shot into Katsuro's chest for good measure. He shut his eyes and drew in a shaky breath, then dropped the Ruger to the ground and fell to his knees. "T-thank God...it's all over..."

"Nice work, Oak."

Gary's head shot up as he observed Katsuro folding his hands neatly in his lap and smiling at him. "Y-you..."

"This was your doing, of course," he said, that maddening smile still in place as he motioned to the grayscale monitor upon his desk, the screen alight with rotating images of the bloodied Council members lying dead in the conference room. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I really must thank you, Gary. I was planning on destroying them as the time came near anyway. You've saved me the trouble."

"How are you still alive?" Gary asked incredulously, his entire body shaking violently with fear and the horrific realization that he had just killed seven people—_eight_, really, but why wasn't he...why wasn't he dead?

Katsuro merely smirked in response and pulled the Smith & Wesson kept in his desk from its drawer and fired several rounds into Gary's body, one shot catching him through the throat. After a few desperate moments, his body finally stilled, and the office was quiet.

Nearly a minute passed. Katsuro remained silent as he stared at the rapidly bloodying carpet and the now-deceased boy lying at an odd angle upon the office floor. Almost as an afterthought, he carefully removed his suit jacket and observed the metal projectiles lodged firmly in his bulletproof vest.

* * *

The small room was quiet that night as the tension between Ash and Renjiro had finally begun to ebb—if only because the two boys were now sound asleep. A dim light flickered from the small nightlight plugged into the far wall, casting Misty's features in a shadowy glow from across the room. She kept her eyes upon Ash's sleeping form upon the bed as she continued to sort through their dwindling supply of bandages.

Misty sighed and shut her eyes as she leaned heavily against the wall. Apart from a small stack of Band-Aids and some sterile pads, there were still two rolls of gauze, maybe two-and-a-half if they could find the half-unwound one that Ash had angrily thrown at Renjiro's head earlier that day; the assassin had retaliated with a nearby cup of ramen that had thankfully been empty. Her earlier threats against their continuing animosity had done little to alleviate the tension between the two feuding boys.

But still...their petty quarrels had almost a calming effect, Misty observed with a small smile as she set the bandages beside her upon the faded-brown carpet. Through their childish arguments and endless bickering Misty could almost forget that the League was probably closing in faster with each passing second, and Ash was their number-one target. If they should find him...

Misty's sorrowful gaze once again settled upon the dark-haired youth sleeping soundly upon the bed, one arm dangling over the side, mouth wide open, a series of sleepy grunts and low snores emanating from his throat. Five years...she'd been apart from the man she loved for five long and desperate years. They'd been reunited for days—mere _days_ against the crushing weight of impossibly arduous years—and already her wounded heart had begun to heal. Just a few days with that thick-headed, stubborn, dense, idiotic trainer who'd been a veritable thorn in her side for twelve years...

Ash flipped onto his side and snuggled a bit into his pillow, his sleeping visage now facing her. Misty could have sworn that she heard her name pass his lips, and she couldn't keep a smile from crossing her face. Ash's sleeping countenance retained a measure of that childish innocence that she had missed so much. Misty dusted her hands upon her olive cargo pants and, carefully stepping over Renjiro's sleeping form upon the worn carpet, laid down silently upon the mattress. The cool linen felt good against her tired skin, and she allowed her eyes to drift shut. Being this close to Ash, having him near her...this was all she needed right now.

Through her exhaustion-fogged brain Misty vaguely felt Ash's hand gently stroking her hair in his sleep, the nearly waist-length auburn tresses now fanned about her head on the pillow like a halo. He had such a fascination with her hair when it was down, she smiled, and continued basking in the warmth radiating from the boy lying next to her.

Ash would never be the type of person to write Shakespearean sonnets, give her expensive bouquets of beautiful and delicate flowers, or for that matter even whisper sweet nothings into her ear. Misty knew very well that if they _had_ a future relationship, it would be one filled with arguments over lack of romantic sentiment. But it was the little things that mattered so much to her, that showed beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ash's feelings for her were inviolable, despite his inability to fully express himself. Such as the sluggish yet gentle fingers combing through her hair. Misty opened her eyes slightly and gently brushed a hand against Ash's cheek, his eyes flickering behind the closed lids at the soft contact.

Misty felt her heart warm even more as she once again noted that it was Ash's subconscious that compelled him to administer such gentle, loving actions to her. "I'm even in your dreams," she said fondly in a soft whisper. "Wonder what you're dreaming abo—"

Her eyes flew open in shock as the hand that had been stroking her hair now pressed firmly against her right breast.

A wistful smile had appeared upon Ash's peaceful visage as he squeezed lightly through the thin material of the tanktop she wore. Misty's cheeks flushed crimson partly at the intimate contact that Ash wasn't even aware he was affording her, but also partly at the way her heart had begun to pound and her lower body had begun to throb at the slight touch, the feelings only intensifying as he slowly dragged one finger across the taut nipple. Her nerves seemed to be on fire, a thrumming in her blood that she had never experienced causing her eyes to flutter shut as she arched into his touch...

"Well, hey, he knows where the hands go. How 'bout that?"

Misty's eyes flew open and an even deeper flush jumped to her startled countenance as she turned her head to see a fully-awake Renjiro smirking at her as he knelt beside the bed. "I'm surprised that he's still asleep, though," the assassin noted with a slight frown as he cocked his head to one side and observed Ash's peaceful features. "Must be having one hell of a dream. Hope you've got some fresh sheets somewhere in here, babe."

"Mind your own damn business, you pervert!" Misty cried, half in anger and half in stark embarrassment, drawing back her hand and affording him a harsh slap. "After what you did to me, can't I enjoy myself a little without fear? Without hating myself for it?" She turned angrily away from him. "I deserve to be able to respect myself again, to be empowered by something like this rather than demeaned. So just go back to sleep and don't concern yourself with my personal life anymore."

"Don't worry, I won't." Renjiro's gaze shifted downward a bit, and he smiled wickedly. "Oh, and Misty? It might be a good idea to take his hand _off_ your tits the next time you launch into a moral diatribe." With one last smirk, he curled back into the pile of blankets and sheets serving as a makeshift bed upon the floor and went back to sleep.

Misty's blush only deepened as she slowly turned her eyes down to see Ash's hand still resting upon her breast, along with the other slowly unzipping her pants and sliding beneath her underwear. Casting a scowl at Renjiro, she gently took Ash's busy hands in her own and kissed her sleeping love on the forehead. Resting her head upon his shoulder, Misty whispered softly, "Not just yet, Ash."

Her peripheral vision didn't grant her the image of a wide-awake Ash smiling devilishly from above her.

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

_One more chapter to go, and then it's over. I swear that everything will come together, including the 'big twist' that I keep going on about (although one of my extremely astute author friends coughKarencough figured it out already and I slipped up and gave it away to another...). Thanks muchly to everyone who's stuck it out thus far! _

_C&C welcome, as usual._


	10. Chapter Nine: Revelations

_**The Strength of the Soul**_

**A/N: **And thus it is finished. Three months and an agonizing amount of prewriting (nearly two notebooks full) later, 'The Strength of the Soul' is finally at its close. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Which is a lot, for me at least. This fic has really become my baby, and despite my endless bitching about various plot devices and whatnot, I really am proud of it.

I hope you enjoy the final installment; it's been real, guys. Thanks for a great ride.

**Disclaimer: **see prologue

**Thanks to: **zephyrstar, Erina-chan, Mony, Metal Mewtwo, and everyone who has stood behind me on this fic and supported my transition from trite humor/romance to full-on drama and angst. A huge thank you to those who have also supported me in my personal life, as it hasn't exactly been a very easy few months; I cannot express my thanks enough.

**And for everything: **Without Karen, there would be no fic. I seriously did not have the courage to post this in the first place, and it was only at Karen's insistence that I posted it in the first place. Since then, we've become incredibly close through late-night chat sessions on AIM, gripes over fic headaches, musings over Pocky and instant ramen, you name it. I cherish our friendship more than just about anything; thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything. This is your fic; happy birthday.

* * *

"Sir!"

Katsuro's bored gaze shifted from the metal projectiles lodged firmly within the padded garment protecting his chest to the rather frantic-looking Jensen, now standing with a worried look in the doorway to his office. "Yes, Jensen, what is it?"

"Th-the Council members, Sir! Th-they've all been _killed_!"

Katsuro smirked a bit to himself at Jensen's absolute horror at the murder of his comrades. Oh, that's right, he hadn't been privy to this one sordid little aspect of The Plan. He'd almost forgotten. "Well, Jensen, I must admit that it was a bit of a shock to discover that it was indeed our own Mr. Oak who carried out their murders..." He motioned to the bloodied boy lying in a crumpled heap upon the carpet. "...but rest assured that everything is going according to plan. I myself had planned to carry out their murders later tonight; in a fit of very illogical rage, Mr. Oak actually managed to save me the trouble."

"I was not informed of this aspect of the plan, Sir," Jensen responded in a tight, angry voice. "The assassinations, the bombings, yes, I am well-aware of those. But to murder your own underlings? I have to wonder if you haven't finally begun to lose perspective on this whole situation. You already have untold power over the masses; do you really have to go so far as to—"

"Jensen," Katsuro said patiently. "Do you know how I punish insubordination?"

A slow look of recognition coupled with horror slowly spread across Jensen's features, replacing the anger and shock that had formerly graced them. "S-sir, I beg you to reconsider..."

Katsuro calmly reached for the Smith & Wesson now lying innocently upon his desk and, suppressing a tired yawn, quickly shot Jensen through the throat. His eyes betrayed no hint of emotion as the body of his former second-in-command crumpled to the ground, blood spraying from his wounds.

"Hmm...perhaps you're right, Jensen," he said thoughtfully, tapping his chin with one finger. "Perhaps I _have _begun to lose perspective." A dark smile spread across his features. "But then, sometimes genius is borne of malice, is it not? And after all...which of us is still alive?"

His amusement was broken as the phone upon his desk began to ring. The slightest smirk appeared upon his face as he moved to press the 'speakerphone' button. "About time, you son-of-a-bitch."

* * *

Thin beams of moonlight stretched through the encompassing darkness of the dingy hotel room. The lone bulb above the large bed had burned out twenty minutes ago, plunging the room into the darkness of the night. Misty sighed a bit to herself and continued staring out the window through the slitted blinds, her chin propped up in one hand. "How long did Renjiro say he was going to be, anyway?" she asked in a bored tone.

"Somewhere around an hour," Ash responded from where he lay prone on the bed, one hand loosely wrapped around the recently-provided Glock. "He said he had to tie up some loose ends, remember? Make sure everything's in order before we head out?" He shut his eyes and sighed deeply, thoughts racing. "Let me tell you something, Misty—I don't like this."

Misty squinted through the darkness to see Ash now sitting up upon the bed and gazing towards the window suspiciously. "After everything he's done," he continued, "what possible reasons do we have for trusting him, huh? Just because he gave us his word that he's one of the good guys? Sorry, Mist; I don't quite buy that."

Misty carefully edged her way through the darkness and sat next to Ash on the bed, resting her small hand upon his larger one. "And you think I do?" she asked in a soft voice. "Renjiro's made me suffer more than anyone else, and he enjoyed every minute of my pain. But Ash—" She placed her other hand upon his cheek. "—we have to trust him. He's the only chance we have of destroying the League. If we die, at least we'll have been able to stop someone else from going through the hell they put us through. Right now, he's all we've got."

Ash smiled faintly, then pressed his forehead against Misty's. "And each other."

"And each other," Misty repeated, returning the smile and intertwining her fingers with his.

For a moment, they could forget that they would probably be dead within twenty-four hours, forget that they were essentially carrying on a hopeless rebellion, even forget that their key to the League was a wholly unstable and largely treacherous assassin whose own father was their arch-nemesis. The only thing that mattered was the tenderness they felt at that moment for each other.

Ash felt his heart racing a bit, the atmosphere once again starting to go to his head, among other places. It was just too much...knowing that they were going to die, but at the same time having been reunited with the love of his life and essentially been given a second chance at what he had failed to realize five years earlier...

_I want..._

A low set of dark, heavy clouds rolled in front of the moon, obscuring its ethereal light and plunging the room into a complete and total darkness. Misty faintly felt Ash's lips just barely brushing across her neck, his hands slowly drifting down to her breasts. "Ash..."

"Hmm..."

She shut her eyes tightly against the painful memories of Renjiro's severity, the self-loathing that accompanied the pleasure and pain...that was slowly being replaced by the warmth and love that was radiating from the man who had shifted them so that he was now lying on top of her. "Ash...w-we can't..._I _can't..."

Through the darkness she heard him sigh slightly, then felt his hand gently squeeze hers. "I understand; I mean, a-after everything you've gone through, I wouldn't ever want to force anything on you." His lips pressed against hers softly. "I love you."

"_And you think that bastard would still want you if he knew what you've become? That he'd still love you?"_

Misty felt a slight shiver run down her spine at the memory of Renjiro's harsh words, spoken to her as he once again pinned her against the cold hardwood floor and viciously entered her, with no concern given for her terror and pain. He'd taken everything from her...her innocence...

"We don't have to anything until you're ready, Misty."

_He can't have me anymore._

Wordlessly, she pulled him into a passionate embrace.

* * *

_Tears ran down her pale cheeks as he roughly ripped her shirt from her thin frame, hands roughly kneading her breasts. The thick twine that he had used to bind her wrists dug painfully into her skin, leaving the skin red and raw. Why...why did he do this to her? Why did he feel the need to cause her such pain, to debase her, mock her, __**torture **__her?_

_A sharp cry escaped her throat as his hands moved lower._

* * *

Misty kept her eyes shut tightly as Ash's hands awkwardly tugged off her thin tanktop and lifted it over her head. _Don't...don't hurt me..._ But instead of the rough touch that she had come to expect, he gently kissed her and held her hands in his own.

* * *

_His eyes were dark with malice as he shrugged out of his jacket and turned his emotionless gaze to her nude form, ignoring her trembling and the terrified look in her eyes. His lips captured hers in a bruising kiss, his tongue roughly caressing hers. One hand slipped between her legs, and she cried out against his mouth, feeling an overwhelming sense of self-loathing and disgust for her lack of strength, for letting him touch her, for not being able to break her bonds and escape._

"_You're mine, bitch."_

* * *

Ash continued to kiss her softly as he removed her cargo pants, absent-mindedly pushing them off the bed. One hand gently brushed across her right breast, then rested upon her abdomen. He broke the kiss long enough to remove his own T-shirt, then asked in a low whisper if she was all right. When she granted him a barely perceptible nod in the midst of the darkness, he once again pressed his lips firmly against her own, then began to move his hand lower.

* * *

_She could no longer cry; all the tears within her body had long since flowed down her cheeks and dried in salty streaks upon her terrified visage. A blank stare alighted her eyes as he moved against her, one hand supporting his weight upon the wall behind her. No longer was there even the slightest hint of pleasure, even for him apparently; there was no love, no tenderness, no emotion in his eyes, only a maddening brutality and sense of power that bored through her and seemed to drive him more forcefully with each thrust. _

_She shut her eyes and prayed._

* * *

Ash's movements were slow, unsure, but altogether loving and gentle. "Are you sure you're okay?" he whispered softly to Misty, kissing her upon the forehead and slowing his motions.

The memories suddenly began to ebb as the only thing she became conscious of was the man lying atop her, his eyes bright with worry and concern, his hands gripping hers tightly. _Ash…this is…not the same thing as before...this is good...this is __**right...**_

Tears of joy came to her eyes as she pulled him down for another kiss.

* * *

_Power...manipulation...control... _A choked sob escaped her throat as the pain once again coursed through her bruised body. _He doesn't care about anything else..._

* * *

"I love you, Misty..."

* * *

_It hurts..._

* * *

_He loves me..._

_He loves me..._

And as suddenly as they had begun, the memories became as intangible as a summer mist, slowly fading away into the still night air, becoming replaced by the feelings of love and warmth that permeated the small hotel room.

The dark clouds silently passed from their position over the moon, and once again light reached into the darkest corners of the room.

* * *

Renjiro wrapped his jacket more tightly around himself as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, muttering curses as the phone continued to ring. "Come on, dammit; pick up the fucking phone..."

"Nanahara here," Katsuro's voice suddenly rang out through the small cellular phone speaker.

Renjiro smirked a bit to himself at the agitated tone of his father's voice. "Everything's going according to plan, I assume?"

"And may I inquire as to why you think that's any of your business, you poor excuse for an underling?"

"Just letting you know that I'm holding up my end of the bargain, and you'd damn well better do the same thing."

"Don't worry, Renjiro my boy; you'll get what's coming to you."

"Don't mess with me, you son-of-a-bitch. I know all the games you play."

"Rest assured, Renjiro, that you have no need to fear any..._games_—as long as you cooperate Do not allow your feelings to interfere with your mission. Do you understand me?"

A slow smile spread across Renjiro's features at that. He cast a glance at the cloud-obscured moon, then responded, "No, sir; I won't." He pressed the 'end' button upon the phone, then sharply exhaled. "I won't let any of my emotions interfere with _my _mission."

* * *

Katsuro stared at the phone upon his desk for several minutes after Renjiro had terminated their call, a small smile upon his face. He reached into his desk and, extracting a silver engraved cigarette case, removed a single cigarette, then quickly lit it and remarked, "Now, Renjiro m'boy...now you'll learn exactly what I meant about never trusting anyone."

* * *

President Mukudori hummed a bit to himself as he sorted through the list of documents that needed to be signed before tomorrow's military briefing. "Let's see...increase defense spending? Check. Grant the League full military power in the capture of terrorist Ashton Ketchum? Check. Proposal cutting nebulizers from elderly Medicare plan?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully, then initialed the paper. "Well, defense spending has to come from somewhere. Check."

A series of shots suddenly rang out in the hallway outside the lavish office. President Mukudori immediately dropped behind his desk and carefully peeked over the cherry wood desktop, clutching his gilded pen as if it were a knife. "Wh-what's going on?" he whispered in disbelief.

The doors to his office were blasted away with a small explosive, and two men clad in black suits with the League's insignia upon their lapels entered, guns at the ready. One of them bowed quickly to the president, then asked, "President Mukudori?"

"Y-yes," the President responded carefully.

Another series of shots sounded throughout the office, and President Mukudori fell onto the plush carpet, bleeding profusely and groaning in pain. The men quickly nodded at one another, then returned their guns to their holsters and strode out of the office.

* * *

Katsuro slowly ground out his fourth cigarette in the engraved ashtray upon his desk, staring blankly ahead. Thick smoke wove its way throughout the office and partially obscured Katsuro's emotionless features; his trademark scowl was for once absent. Upon the desk were countless photographs of a smiling Renjiro, landscapes of Seijaku Town...even one framed picture of himself and Kaminari on their wedding day. She had been very beautiful when she was alive; her brilliant smile was filled with hope and joy as she held her new husband's hand in her own.

She had no way of knowing, of course, that she would merely serve as a front for Katsuro's illegal activities within the League; the public would need to see him as a family man, of course. Thus his marriage and, later, Renjiro's birth; it was all a game to him, just another medium of manipulation that he used to further his own nefarious purposes. And he felt no guilt for his actions.

"Sir?"

The frown that would so normally etch its way into his features at the speakerphone's obnoxious blaring was noticeably absent from Katsuro's face. He turned his emotionless gaze to the phone and simply asked, "Yes, what is it?"

"Th-the assassination, Sir. It-it's been successfully carried out."

"Good work; I commend you on your effort."

"Thank you, Sir! It's a pleasure working for you!"

"Hmm." The speakerphone was switched off with a careless flick of the finger, and Katsuro once again turned his attention to the spread of photographs upon his desk. "So...that only leaves one stage," he noted aloud. "Over twenty years have been leading up to this...so many lives lost, people destroyed...just one more card to play..." The long-absent smirk slowly returned, combined with a wholly dangerous glint in his eyes. "And Renjiro, my boy, your job is nearly complete."

With one broad arm sweep, the pictures tumbled off the desk and into the nearby wastebasket. With only the slightest glance at the glossy photographs, Katsuro dropped his lit cigarette into the basket and leaned back in his chair. "Yes, Renjiro, I've almost finished with you."

Within the wastebasket, the smiling pictures of Renjiro slowly burned at the edges, blackening and twisting as they were steadily replaced by ash.

* * *

"Hey you two lovebirds, I'm home."

Renjiro swung the door open wide as he strode into the small hotel room, one hand resting upon the Glock tucked into his waistband. "So, what did you guys do while I was gone?" he asked with a slightly suggestive smirk.

Ash and Misty, who currently sitting against the far wall, hands entwined, simply glanced at each other briefly, then simultaneously began to blush furiously. "Uh...we didn't do anything. Really!" Ash said quickly, averting his eyes.

"Like he said," Misty quickly agreed.

Renjiro regarded the two nervous subversives before him, then shrugged and sat down heavily upon the bed, which was made a little too neatly. He pressed his hands firmly upon the bedspread, then smiled broadly. "It's warm. _Really _warm." The ever-deepening blush upon his hosts' faces seemed to confirm his suspicions. "Why, Ash, I didn't think you had it in you." He gave Ash a slow once-over. "I mean, literally; I was wondering if you were a eunuch."

He had expected the usual bravado from Ash at the insult to his manhood—the young Pokemon Master would charge him, insult him, and probably slam his fist into his jaw before Misty knocked them both out. Yet there was no indignation from his young rival; instead, there he sat, his hand softly resting atop Misty's, a gentle smile gracing his features as he smiled tenderly at her. There were no words spoken, but it was impossible to overlook the love and tenderness between them.

It was making him sick.

"You two wanna stop mooning over each other for two seconds?" Renjiro asked with an annoyed sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. "We _have _a job to do."

Giving Misty's hand a quick squeeze, Ash pulled himself to his feet and, stopping only to grab his Glock from the bedside table, turned to face Renjiro. "Are we ready?"

A smile spread across Renjiro's features, and it was all he could do to keep from laughing and crying at the same time. This over-eager, idealistic boy standing before him was exactly what he had come to hate; naivety, innocence, joy…they had all been stolen from him at such a young age and practically hand-delivered to this...this..._bastard. _

"Ash, are you going to be okay using that thing?" Misty asked in a concerned voice as she tucked her own Magnum into her waistband and gingerly touched the Glock held in Ash's grip.

And then there was _her_. She'd betrayed him without ever even knowing it; her allegiance to Ash was just another in a long line of slaps in the face that Renjiro had received from nearly everyone in existence. His father had taken everything from him and in turn given it to Ash; but to have someone else voluntarily choose this simplistic fool? Someone that he had given his heart to completely?

_It's because of that...I have no regrets._

"Let's move out," Renjiro said gruffly.

Low, heavy black clouds rolled in front of the brilliant moon once more.

* * *

The trio made their way through the thick woods silently, Renjiro leading and Ash and Misty walking side-by-side behind him. Occasionally the assassin would ask if they were all right, if the pace was too quick for them, but apart from those few inconsequential words, there was nothing. An unsettling aura seemed to permeate the forest; no birds chirped, nor did crickets chirp or cicadas sing. It was as if the natural world itself had come to anticipate the upcoming battle and had ceased to be for the duration of the struggle.

Ash's gaze alternated between Misty, Renjiro, and the obscured moon high above in the night sky. He had no idea what to expect upon their arrival at League headquarters; all he knew was that he and Misty were placing inviolable faith in the man who had so often used them, tortured them, _betrayed _them...he would have been more at ease if the devil himself had been leading them down the forest path.

But still, there was really no other option. He himself was now wanted for murder and acts of terrorism, and Misty could at any given moment be ruthlessly killed as the League sought to destroy him first emotionally and mentally. Renjiro was their only link to the League's infrastructure, as well as the Leader, Katsuro Nanahara, himself. And so it was his plan that they were implementing, his word that they followed, _his _will that they bended to. And he seemed to be enjoying every minute of it.

It was this plan of his that made Ash so wary of the situation; if indeed Renjiro had some ulterior motive, he and Misty were done for once they set foot within the League's headquarters. There was no possible way for either Misty or himself to verify Renjiro's true intentions, and thus Ash kept eyeing the assassin walking silently in front of them warily.

"Hey, you okay?"

Ash was shaken from his reverie at the quiet question raised by the small red-headed woman walking beside him, her hand seeking his in the still of the night. Clasping her hand in his own and giving it a reassuring squeeze, he responded, "I'm okay. Just...having some second thoughts. You?"

"I'm okay," Misty said softly. "How was...I mean, I wasn't...I wasn't..."

Ash wordlessly pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they continued to make their way through the forest. "You were wonderful," he whispered to her.

Misty smiled faintly. "I didn't want to be so afraid; it's just...everything that's happened..."

"I understand; trust me. I'm just really glad that you didn't let it stop you."

Misty raised one eyebrow and let out a derisive snort. "Oh, I'll _bet _you're glad. You know, that's all you males think about, isn't it?"

"What? Where did _this _come from?"

"Oh, forget it! You're all sex-obsessed morons."

"Misty! Stop being so...well...stupid."

"_Stupid_!?"

"Ah, well, I...ah..."

Renjiro rolled his eyes as a loud SMACK resounded throughout the still forest. "Are you two quite finished?" he asked flatly, shooting a glance over his shoulder and observing with a small smile a fuming Misty and Ash carefully nursing a large bump on his head.

_This is going to be a __**long **__night..._

* * *

Katsuro ground out his twelfth cigarette in the engraved ashtray, boredly watching the list of figures continue to scroll down upon the screen of his laptop. It was only a matter of minutes before the last stage of his nefarious plot could be enacted, and then he would finally be free from the insolence and stupidity that had surrounded him over these past twenty years. The other Council members, young Master Ketchum, Renjiro...they had all been unwitting pawns who had served their purposes well, and had now exhausted their usefulness.

_All except one..._ Katsuro thought with a smirk. Yes, indeed, there was one individual who had yet to fulfill his duty to the utmost extent. Katsuro inclined his head slightly to the left and observed the smoldering pictures staring up at him from their place within the wastebasket. Over the years, Renjiro had failed him time and time again—as a Pokemon Trainer, as a son, as a _person. _The once-idealistic boy had turned from a pillar of morality in his youth to a sullen and dour child—after the death of his mother and the utter decimation of all that he had loved—and finally into a rebellious and downright treasonous assassin whose inherent danger sent all but the hardiest of League members into a slight panic.

_I don't trust you, Renjiro, _Katsuro thought with a frown, reclining comfortably in his chair. _But above all else—you are my son. And thus, you must have certain...loyalties._

"Well, speak of the devil," Katsuro announced aloud as Renjiro silently strode into the office, his gaze focused upon the dark bloodstains in the carpet. "Oh, those. Well, let's just say that there were those who refused to submit."

"And you killed them, of course," Renjiro noted simply, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the wall. "It's to be expected, of course. You have no moral conscience whatsoever."

"And you do, of course."

"More than you, at any rate."

"I see." A small smile crossed Katsuro's face. "Well, Renjiro m'boy, what makes you think that you're any more moral a citizen?"

"Because," a voice sounded, "he's taking you down."

Katsuro's gaze shot to the door to see Ash and Misty, guns drawn and at the ready. "And so are we," Ash said simply, his voice full of malice.

* * *

Katsuro shifted his attention to a now-smirking Renjiro, who shared a quick smile with Ash. "So," he noted, leaning back in his chair, "you've come here to kill me, I suppose?"

"After everything you've done to us," Ash informed him in a tone full of deadly promise, "you deserve nothing less."

Katsuro smiled condescendingly at the boy before him somewhat unsurely gripping his gun. "And I suppose that my son here—" He motioned to Renjiro, who was now boredly inspecting his fingernails. "—helped you infiltrate League headquarters?"

"That's right," Ash responded, his tone still dangerous and edgy. His finger tightened on the trigger.

"And then you and your little girlfriend here were planning to kill me, of course," he continued, blithely ignoring the Glock staring him down from across the room. "And then you would release documents to the media of the League's supposed corruption, and you and she would get married and live happily ever after. Am I right?"

Ash's grip loosened slightly upon the gun at Katsuro's airy tone. "H-how did you know what we were going to do?"

A sharp cry from his left quickly stole his attention from Katsuro's patronizing stare.

To his horror, there stood Renjiro, one hand casually stuck into his pocket, gazing emotionlessly ahead...

...the barrel of his Glock pressed against Misty's temple.

Katsuro let out a short, barking laugh at the look of bewildered horror upon Ash's face. Renjiro quickly echoed the laughter and, giving Misty a hard shove towards Ash, strode over to his father's side and leaned against the heavy cherry wood desk, spinning the Glock on one finger. Father and son shared a quick smile.

"R-renjiro?" Misty asked in disbelief, her Magnum lowered to her side.

Renjiro granted her a level stare, then pointed the gun at her. "Misty," he said with a short laugh, shaking his head, "don't you know not to trust your enemies?"

* * *

"Oh, Renjiro, before I forget," Katsuro noted distractedly as he rummaged through the heavy desk's drawers, "the president was assassinated this afternoon."

"Good work," Renjiro noted abstently, his harsh gaze still locked upon Misty. "So I guess all that's left is for you to kill the last two subversives and then seize power, huh?"

"Mm-hmm," Katsuro responded affirmatively, then smiled as he extracted his Smith & Wesson revolver from the desk drawer. "Ah, here we go. I assume you're taking the bitch, right?"

"You bet. You can have that naïve little bastard."

Across the room, Ash shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, then clasped Misty's right hand in his left. "Misty," he said in a choked voice, "I—I'm so sorry..."

"It's not your fault," she replied, shaking her head. "I-I was the one who said to trust him...I can't believe I was so _stupid_!"

"Hey," Ash said, "I'm the stupid one, remember? The dense, idiotic trainer who matched Caterpies against Pidgeottos?" He smiled weakly at her.

Misty returned the smile with all the strength she could muster, then squeezed his hand and said in a shaky voice, "I love you, Ash."

"I love you, Mist."

Together, they turned to face their fate.

* * *

"Oh, that's right; I got in touch with Professor Nakamatsu earlier tonight. I'd almost forgotten."

A malicious smirk appeared on Renjiro's features as he quickly moved his gun so that it was pressed against his father's forehead.

"Who's Professor—" Misty halted her words as she observed the Ash's pallor. "...Ash?"

"H-he's the chief weapons engineer of the League," Ash responded in a shaky voice. "Specializing in explosives and bombs...which means..."

"...that the whole building is completely wired," Renjiro finished, tightening his finger on the trigger. "And there's not a damn thing you can do to stop it, old man."

Katsuro's eyes widened slightly as the smallest traces of fear began to invade his conscious. Somewhere...somewhere in this building... "But...you'll die, too!"

Renjiro slowly turned his gaze to Ash and Misty, who stared at each other for a long moment, then nodded back. "We've known that since the minute we set up this plan against you," he said simply.

The mild look of horror upon Katsuro's face was slowly replaced by a diabolical smile as he quickly spun, elbowed Renjiro hard in the gut, and pulled back the hammer on his Smith & Wesson. "The whole point has been to eliminate the subversives!" he roared, pointing the gun at Misty. "But before I take _you _out, Ash—" His finger tightened on the trigger. "I'll take out the one thing you love most."

A shot echoed throughout the office.

* * *

Katsuro lowered the smoking revolver, his features settling into an annoyed frown, brow creased. He sighed deeply then, motioning to the bleeding body crumpled onto the ground, asked aloud, "Who would be fool enough to do such a stupid thing?"

Misty trembled violently as she knelt and reached out, gingerly touching Renjiro's shoulder, her wide eyes unable to shift their gaze from the gaping bullet wound in his torso. "Wh-why?" she asked in disbelief. "Why would you—"

Renjiro coughed violently, then flipped onto his back with a great effort. "I—I don't really know," he answered with a laugh. "I don't know why I've done anything. I don't know why...why I tried to help you...or why I betrayed you...or why...why I've done _anything._" Blood spurted from his mouth as he coughed once again and clutched at his abdomen painfully. "I—I just know that…Ash…" He managed to turn his shaky gaze to the man standing frozen in shock above him. "...my father gave you...everything that was supposed to be mine."

"What?" Ash asked confusedly. "What do you mean by that?"

"Th-there's no time to explain," Renjiro coughed, "I just...I think I under—understand now. It wasn't you I hated all this...all this time. Even though I hated you for taking everything from me...the title of Pokemon Master...my father...Misty...it wasn't you. It was my father...all this time, it was my father..."

"I'll stay with him," Misty said softly, giving Ash an imploring look. "Please—you have to stop the Leader." She quickly glanced at where Katsuro was whistling and reloading his gun.

"I'm on it," Ash said, crossing the office, gun at the ready.

Misty continued to shake violently as she pulled Renjiro's head into her lap. "It's okay," she said reassuringly. "It's going to be okay."

"I think I finally understand what you see in him," Renjiro said, tears starting to flow from his ice-blue eyes. "He-he's a good guy. Really, Misty. He's everything I wish I could be but lost too early on. He's—" His eyes clenched shut painfully. "—a better _son _than I could ever be. A better heir. It's no wonder that my father...chose him over me."

"_Would you care to explain why the police called me today and asked me if I knew anything about my husband's __**repeated **__rapes of young women in towns all across Kanto!? Dammit, one of them is __**pregnant**__, Katsuro!"_

_Oh my GOD... _Misty's eyes widened in horror as she realized exactly what the bloodied man lying across her lap was saying. "Then you're...you're...Ash's..."

"I'm sorry, Misty." Tears were flowing freely from Renjiro's eyes as he pleaded with her. "Oh my God...the things I've done to you...the things I've _done..._"

Misty desperately fought back tears as Renjiro continued to quietly sob from his prone position. "Renjiro...please, I can't..."

"I-I can't expect you to forgive me..." Another hacking cough tore through his lungs, and blood once again rose to his mouth. "But...know that I'm sorry. And you know what?"

"What?" Misty asked in a choked voice.

"You—" Renjiro managed a weak smile. "—you would have made one hell of a sister-in-law." His breathing slowed, and his eyes finally drifted shut.

And Misty allowed her tears to fall.

* * *

Across the room, Ash and Katsuro faced off, Ash's Glock pointed square at Katsuro's throat and his finger tightened on the trigger. "I assume you were listening to Renjiro's little deathbed confession there?" Katsuro taunted.

Ash's eyes stung with angry tears. "You bastard," he said through clenched teeth. "I'll kill you for what you did to my mother alone."

"If it makes you feel any better," Katsuro said with a dark smile, "she wasn't very good at it."

Ash's eyes narrowed in fury, and he angrily fired off a shot, which Katsuro easily dodged.

"Nice shot, boy," Katsuro said in a simple, condescending tone. He in turn fired, catching Ash through the same shoulder that Renjiro himself had wounded several days earlier in the Viridian Forest. "But it should actually be more like that."

Ash cried out in pain but managed to remain standing. "I—I'm not through with you yet, you son-of-a-bitch," he said through painfully-clenched teeth.

Katsuro smirked and casually tossed his Smith & Wesson aside, then spread his arms wide. "Go ahead, Ash. Try to kill me. You don't have the guts to do it, do you? You _can't _kill your own father, no matter what he's done to you."

Ash's grip upon the Glock began to shake as he tried desperately to hold the gun steady.

"Give it up, boy. Stop trying to play the hero."

He desperately tightened his finger on the trigger.

"You can't."

_I—I can't..._

A shot suddenly rang out, and a bullet tore through Katsuro's throat, blood spraying as the once-illustrious Leader of the League let out a choked gurgle and fell face-first onto the carpet, where he lay motionless.

Ash gaped silently at the body of the man who had been his father, then turned his shocked gaze to the Glock held within his hands. But there was no smoke rising from the barrel, no smell of gunpowder…

He turned in shock to see a determined-looking Misty standing with her smoking Magnum held in her extended right hand, finger still on the trigger. "He can't," she informed Katsuro's corpse. "_I _can."

Ash smiled weakly at her, then dropped to his knees, clutching painfully at his wounded shoulder. "God—it hurts," he cried out, inhaling sharply.

Misty moved to his side, pulling him into a gentle embrace. "It's okay...it'll be okay," she whispered to him, not even bothering to hold back her desperate tears. "Please, Ash...you _have _to survive...for me..."

"H-he was...my _brother_," Ash said tearfully, reaching out with one hand and touching Renjiro's shoulder. "All this time...I never knew..."

"Shh..." Misty strained her ears and finally heard the slow, steady beeping sound that would herald the end of the League...as well as Ash and herself.

"Soon, Ash..."

"I wanted to tell you," Ash whispered to his fallen brother lying beside him, "I forgive you."

Together, Ash and Misty sat in a tearful embrace, grieving the loss of innocence...their own and each other's.

Until the steady beeping came to a halt, and an explosion tore through the building.

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

Flaming debris stretched across the landscape as the sun continued to climb into the morning sky, the area that had once been know as the headquarters of the proud and upstanding League now little more than an array of flaming wreckage. From within the rubble, a lone, cracked monitor flickered, its grayscale screen broadcasting an emergency newsflash from one of the local news nets.

"It has just been announced," the gregarious-looking anchorwoman stated, "that the president is currently in critical yet stable condition at Viridian City Hospital and is expected to make a full recovery. This announcement occurs on the heels of an investigation that began last night into a possible connection between the Pokemon League and the assassination attempt.

"Pokemon Master Ashton Ketchum, aged twenty-two, has this morning been cleared of any and all charges, as documents leaked to the media by a mysterious assassin of the League itself late last night have shown that the Pokemon League was indeed an extraordinarily corrupt organization—before its mysterious destruction last night. Police are currently investigating what may have been the cause of the explosion that rocked lower Viridian City around two o'clock this morning.

"Last night's lottery jackpot reached a record..."

Among the countless bodies within the wreckage, two lay silently in each other's arms, watching the rising sun. Their bodies were bleeding and broken, flesh torn and singed, yet smiles graced their features.

"Do you remember what you promised me the other night?" Ash managed to ask, drawing in each breath carefully against lungs that were progressively fighting harder against each inhalation.

The young woman curled against his side gave a barely perceptible nod.

"You promised you'd marry me," he said with a short, humorless laugh.

Misty turned her face to meet his gaze, then rested her bloodied hand against his cheek. "I do," she said, tears still running down her singed cheeks.

"I do," Ash echoed, resting his forehead against hers. He carefully pressed his lips against hers, tasting blood and not even knowing whether it was hers or his own, tears mingling as well.

Ash moved heavily and, wrapping his arms around her thin frame, leaned back against the sharp rubble surrounding them. His breath was becoming shorter and shorter, and Misty's quick, sharp breaths echoed the same. "Misty..." he managed to say, crying freely and resting his cheek against the top of her head. "We did it. We finally did it." He turned his tear-filled eyes to the sky. "We're...free."

The sun continued to rise, its golden rays stretching across the sky and illuminating the shadowy wreckage.

* * *

**FIN**


End file.
